


Feels Like Infinity

by Larrymama15



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hand Job, I will add tags as this develops, Kissing, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Rimming, Sex Mentions, Some pining, and I wouldn't say angst but it's not all fluffy, blood references, but I did try to keep it tasteful, do people actually tag ejaculation?, fangs are mentioned, one of the characters is a vampire, so there's lots of references to that, this is a vampire fic after all, we finally get to the smutty stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:10:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8322187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larrymama15/pseuds/Larrymama15
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is an accomplished professor and a published author, all at age 28. He has devoted his life to the study and discussion of the mythological beings known as vampires. What he hasn't prepared for is, well, meeting one.





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I must say a gigantic thank you to Lauren, Nic, and especially Lisa, who all gave me such amazing feedback and listened to me whine about how hard this process can be sometimes. And thanks to Jo for the magnificent photoset!
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Louis felt his pulse fluttering, the rhythm like the beating of butterfly wings.

So light. So gentle.

He had always been in tune with his heart, a side effect of walking through life with a heart defect, his cross to bear since childhood. He adjusted his collar and laid a cool hand over the organ, silently measuring his pulse.

His shirt was sticking to his slightly sweaty skin, a direct result of hurrying around too much. He looked down at his watch with a frown and sighed. He was definitely running behind, but he always made time to stop and gaze at the most beautiful sculpture on campus. And really, as his students had a guest lecture in class today, he doubted it mattered if he was exactly on time.

As he stared at the gorgeous stone piece in front of him, he swore he could feel eyes on the side of his head, tracking him. Silly, he thought, but he turned to look anyway, the hairs standing at attention on the back of his neck. A shiver rippled down his spine.

It was nothing, of course, though his movement did spook some of the pigeons to his immediate left, causing them to scatter. Feeling unnerved, he shot one last long, wistful, glance at "his" statue and bound away, blithely unaware of the tall figure cloaked in the shadows watching him intently.

In his darkened classroom he felt a similar eeriness wash over him again. His heart was still puttering along, but those same sensations of hair standing at attention on the back of his neck, and goosebumps radiating over his arms had not left him. He was on high alert, in an environment where he was supposed to feel the most at ease. It was odd, and Louis couldn't focus on anything else because of it.

He loved this guest lecturer, despite his being a bit long winded, and Louis would almost feel guilty for his students if he wasn't preoccupied searching the room for the source of his unease. Nothing. Again. Worrying his bottom lip in his teeth, he willed himself to pay attention to his guest and the topic at hand. He flipped over his phone in his pocket to reveal the time, he only had a few minutes left and then he had his office hours, his favorite part of the day. He loved interacting with his students, not to mention afterwards he usually had some time to relax before his evening class. He had just received an advanced copy of a book one of his former prize students had published, and he was really looking forward to reading it.

Louis had been in love with literature ever since he could remember. When all of the other kids were outside playing over summer holidays, he was holed up in his room reading. Even though he had loathed being cooped up, he had always enjoyed having a grand and glorious adventure without needing to leave his own bed. His mother had been so thrilled by his love for reading (obviously concerned about his health condition) that she had purchased more books for him than anyone could possibly read in a lifetime. And if he ever decided he wanted a different book, he merely had to ask and it would very soon appear in their library.

He grew more and more fascinated with Victorian literature, obsessing over Dickens and the Brontë sisters. He was of course, obsessed with _Wuthering Heights_ _,_ and _Jane Eyre._ What stayed with him so strongly was a sense of the eternal, of love more powerful than life itself, able to live beyond the confines of the human experience.

This fascination with eternity led him into studying works with supernatural themes. His mother had seemed surprised, but only chuckled a little when he told her he wanted to read more about vampires at age fourteen.

It was a slippery slope from there, and Louis had devoured vampire culture. Books, movies, even joining Internet forums centered around the topics of vampires. He had his favorites, of course, but was open to discussion and interpretations of different vampire legends.

Now, at the young age of 28, he was a professor at an established university who taught a full course load on the topic, centered around the staying power of a pop culture phenomenon like vampires. His classes centered on sociological ideology, with touches of religious philosophy, humanities, and media perception. His classes were electives usually taken by literature students wanting to fill up a slot with something “a bit more entertaining” than the average lit class, and Louis’ less than traditional hours and attitude were a rare treat. On campus he often was jokingly referred to as "the vampire guy" or "Professor Fang" but the nicknames never bothered him.

Today's guest lecturer, his friend Liam Payne, was speaking to his graduate class about the culture in England during the writing and release of Bram Stoker's "Dracula." Liam was a history professor a few buildings over and one of Louis' true friends, and they often guest lectured in each other's classes, Liam to help give Louis' classes context, and Louis to help "spice up" Liam's somewhat dry course material.

Liam seemed to be almost finished with his power point presentation, thank goodness, because Louis was still unable to shake the unease in his stomach. He took a long, sweeping glance around the room. Of course a couple of his students were looking in his direction, but none of them were giving him the wary energy he was still feeling. His eyes narrowed at a spot towards the back of the lecture hall, but it was too dark to make anything out.

As Liam finished the lecture he turned the class back over to Louis, who stepped in front of the projector's glow, illuminated.

"Thank you, Professor Payne, for that fascinating assessment of British culture during the time of Bram Stoker's authorship. Don't forget, class, you have a paper due tomorrow on our last segment—" Louis broke off to wait for the inevitable sighs and groans. "And I expect you have already started it so no need to be concerned! You're graduate students, this is old hat! Have a good day, stay out of trouble, and class is dismissed!" He said dramatically, waving his arms for emphasis.

He made his way over to the lights and flipped them on, hoping the light in the room would settle his stomach. It didn't.

"Was it alright then, Tommo?" Liam asked gently, nestling his laptop into the carry case. "I hope I didn't spend too much time on the diseases, I know that can make some students queasy."

"Payno," Louis laughed, slapping Liam on the back good-naturedly, "we talk about blood more in this room than in some of the science halls!"

Liam smiled, looking chuffed. He was an easy one to please.

"Honestly mate," Louis continued, "don't worry about it. This is a graduate level class, most of the students know what they're getting into."

Louis moved to where his adjoining office door was and fiddled with his key in the lock. Technically, he was supposed to stay in his office the whole time during his established hours, but more often than not all of his students scheduled their time well in advance, leaving Louis a good working knowledge of when he was free to come and go. Not to mention, Louis hated being dictated to. Why he had chosen academia, he would never understand.

Liam slung his laptop bag over his shoulder and headed towards the door, meandering around the clump of students that were hanging around. Louis was definitely a very popular professor, students seemed to gravitate to him. He loved teaching, loved working with such a varied group of people, all eager to learn. He taught mostly graduate classes, and it never ceased to amaze him the diversity of the people he had come through his classroom, from all walks of life. The last of his students gave him small waves as they cleared the room. He was alone. Finally.

Louis turned back to do a quick and final check over his classroom before confining himself to his little office with his new book and a cuppa. Somehow the feeling in the pit of his stomach had only intensified now that all of his students had left. He swore he heard the rustle of something that sounded like fabric up in the shadows by the fire exit. A shiver ran down his spine once again. He was about to chastise himself and head into his office when-

“Good Afternoon, Professor Tomlinson.” A voice like Louis had never heard before broke into Louis’ thoughts, and he turned with a start, his heartbeat ramping up, to see from where. The voice was deep and rumbling, but still smooth and inviting somehow, as if someone had wrapped steel wool in silk.

The man standing draped in the doorway was tall, and of a lanky build, although his presence seemed to take up more than his actual body. He was wearing a long coat that was decidedly vintage, black, a black patterned blouse that looked like it was torn off the back of a pirate, ripped black skinny jeans, and black crushed velvet boots. His skin was pale, he was almost sickly white, which was only accentuated by his mahogany curls that tumbled down to his shoulders, green eyes that looked pale in their own right, almost faded somehow, and the pinkest, fullest lips Louis had ever seen on a human being.

Louis shuddered. The man was, without a doubt, stunning. It was like the universe compiled every fantasy he had ever had, and put it into one being. He tugged on his own tweed blazer, (he was nothing if not a walking academic stereotype) and held his hand out.

“Good Afternoon, Mr…?”

“Styles,” the angel responded, and he outstretched his own hand almost reluctantly, as Louis frowned. He winced as their hands touched, as Mr. Styles’ hand was ice cold. The other man flinched when they touched as well, which took Louis by surprise, as he was certain he was fairly warm to the touch.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles. Can I ask what brings you into my classroom?” Louis attempted to keep his tone light, but failed spectacularly. His voice broke a little in the middle, and Mr. Styles’ eyebrows and lips simultaneously quirked, as if he was amused and attempting to suppress it.

“Please, it would lovely if you were to call me Harry,” he rumbled, his tone nearly flippant, “and I'm here to do an audit of your seven o'clock class.” Harry looked about the classroom and then right back to Louis. There was something… _off_ about him. He seemed aloof, almost bored, like he had already been through this a million times in his life, yet he was also strangely tense, practically pained, as if something in the room was disturbing him. Louis watched his every move, completely fascinated.

Despite his mannerisms and the vague air of superiority rolling off of Harry, Louis was intrigued.

“But it's just five, Mr. Styles... I mean, that is, Harry?” Louis inquired, indignant. Why would an auditor show up two hours early to a class, and announce themselves at all? They usually used anonymity to their advantage, tried to blend in with the other students. Louis knew there was no way Harry Styles would blend in, however. Maybe that was his reason for being so early.

“Ah yes, apologies Professor Tomlinson,” Harry said, his tone a tad bit sheepish, though no color rose to his ivory skin. “You see, I was hoping to discuss your book before class begins? I am,” he dropped his voice, leaned forward a bit, and Louis’ knees went weak, “what some might call, a bit of a fanboy.”

Harry smiled and Louis’ felt his heart begin to flutter, the pace rabbiting up, and Harry’s smile fell off of his face immediately. He looked nervous, as if his confession had startled Louis, when in fact, Louis was absurdly flattered that this ridiculously attractive man who smelled like leather, pipe tobacco, and vanilla honey, would have read his silly little book on vampires.

“You read my book?” Louis squeaked, laying a calming hand on his heart, a gesture not unnoticed by Mr. Styles, as Louis watched his eyes track Louis’ movements and land on his hand, eyes widened in what looked to be concern, or fear. Louis felt like he could melt into a puddle of goo right here, he was practically swooning.

“Absolutely,” Harry stated firmly. “Vampires are kind of my thing.”

Louis threw his head back and laughed, delighted. “Mine too,” he chuckled, watching Harry’s lips quirk in amusement once more. “Please call me Louis. And please come in. Would you like a cup of—”

“No thank you,” Harry cut him off, sweeping beside him to walk towards his office, and Louis once again felt off balance. He needed to calm himself down, but it wasn't every day someone who looked like sex practically fell into your lap to talk about your life’s work, was it?

Harry looked about his small office cluttered with books and took in an exaggerated breath.

“I love the smell of old books and dust. Feels like home, really.” He said to Louis, who blushed furiously. His office was rather dusty. Harry removed his coat and draped it against the back of his hair, then adjusted the sleeves of his sheer puffy blouse as he began to sit.

“Now, Professor Tom—”

“Please, call me Louis.”

“Ah. Right. Louis.” Harry countered, bemusedly. “I've just been dying to ask you some questions ever since I got my hands on your book. Would you mind ever so terribly if I interviewed you?” He chuckled just slightly, as if he had told a joke, and Louis again felt his heart race. He shook his head slightly and went to reach into his desk drawer for his prescription heart medicine, his hands beginning to shake imperceptibly.

“Are you alright, Louis?” Harry said softly, his brow furrowed downward. “You've gone a bit peaked.”

“Oh yes, quite, I'm quite alright,” Louis bristled, swallowing down his medication. As he drank from his water bottle, he watched Harry’s eyes slide over him, watched his bottom lip be taken into between his teeth, watched this walking sexual fantasy sit back in his chair, clasp his hands together and wrap his delectably long fingers together in an almost obscene fashion.

Jesus Christ Louis needed to get laid.

It was something that rarely happened, if ever these days. Louis lived a solitary life, kept busy by his students and his workload, but more often than not by his own choice. He had broken up with his last boyfriend, Matt, almost three years ago now, when Matt had decided that Louis was boring for not wanting to move to another country.

Louis often found himself alone, which suited him fine, mostly. The local bars were filled with his students or their family members, which was a strict no fly zone. So more often than not, his excitement was a necessary wank in the shower. Which, at this moment, was becoming rapidly appparent that it would absolutely be happening the moment he was home.

Because sitting here now, his heart rate dancing, Louis found himself fantasizing that the man in front of him- who, by the look, sound, and smell of him should have zero trouble attracting a partner--would be giving him any sort of looks, and it was wreaking havoc on Louis’ all but neglected cock.

“You're quite a bit younger than I expected.” Harry said conversationally. “And no author picture.”

“No,” Louis giggled, (was he trying to FLIRT? Oh god!) his pulse just starting to calm a bit. “I hate having my picture taken.”

Harry laughed full blown at that, doubling over in his seat, slapping his own knee. “That's hilarious, Louis! Do you hate mirrors too? Sleep in a coffin? Avoid garlic? Turn into a bat? Are YOU a vampire?”

He pointed a long, pale, ringed finger at Louis, who was sitting slightly awestruck by the musical tone of Harry’s laugh. It was like listening to his favorite song. It was like the whole room around him was illuminated. He wanted to hear it again and again, wanted to be the instigator of it always. He laughed too, just a little giggle, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, and Harry dropped his own hand and leaned forward.

“But truthfully Louis,” he said, his voice deep and sexy again, “how _did_ you come to be so interested in vampires?”

“Well,” Louis sighed, mirroring Harry’s posture, “it started when I was a young lad. I have a heart problem, you see, have always had to be more careful like. Me mum was always worried I'd be a rowdy boy, but I was a big reader, and I sort of just--- fell into it I suppose.” He shifted his weight a bit in his seat. He hadn't told some of his own colleagues about his heart, and yet here he was, spilling his secrets. It was just something about Harry. He was magnetic, and Louis felt pulled to him.

Harry frowned.

“You got some of it wrong, you know.”

“Excuse me?”

“Some of what you said in the book,” Harry stated flatly, “some of the details. They're wrong.”

Louis was taken aback. “Well. It's just some interpretation of legend and folklore- hang on a minute.” He stood and grabbed his copy of his book off the shelf, and began leafing through the pages. “What's wrong, exactly?”

Harry smiled, and flipped open to page that had a bent corner and looked to be highlighted in several sections.

“Well for starters, on page 27, you talk about their sleeping habits. Vampires don't ‘have to sleep during the day,’ or they’ll ‘burn up,’” Harry giggled, “they just can't go outside during high sun, or else they get really itchy. It's like a bad sunburn, or sun induced eczema. It's not so dramatic.”

Louis took out his reading glasses and turned to the page Harry was on. “Interesting… what you're describing sounds a bit like day walkers, which I reference in a footnote and then give a total chapter too later on… Did you read the _whole_ book Harry?” He teased, attempting to keep the conversation light.

Harry looked up at him and scrunched up his nose, as if he was stifling a sneeze. It was way too adorable for his intensity, and Louis was hopelessly endeared.

“You look really different with your glasses.”

Louis blushed, heat rushing to his face, his ears bright red. He took his glasses off and cleared his throat.

“Oh no,” Harry whispered, “I meant that as a compliment. You look really _good_ in them.” He licked his lips and Louis’ heart quite literally stopped beating, and Harry frowned again.

“Oh um. Thank you... H-Harry that's very... nice of you to say.” Louis desperately tried to turn his brain back on as he fumbled over his words. So Harry was flirting with him. That was a thing. Louis didn't know how to feel about it. A part of him, a _big_ part, if he said so himself, was very much interested in flirting with Harry. And doing other things with Harry. Another part of his brain was screaming at him that this man in front of him was there to audit his class, and he was a virtual stranger. An intoxicating stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

He put his glasses back on and Harry smiled, then dropped his attention back down to the book.

“Okay so, here’s another one. Drinking blood.” Harry wrinkled his nose and played with one of his pirate blouse’s sleeves. He was dressed like he was going to a costume party or something, but for whatever reason, Louis accepted it. Not only that, he genuinely thought that he had never seen a puffy sleeved blouse look better on another being. He realized, as he was looking Harry up and down and having ridiculous and increasingly complex lustful thoughts, that Harry had, in fact, been talking this whole time. He was now looking at him expectantly, with a small, sly, knowing smile creeping onto his face.

“I’m sorry Harry, what did you say?” Louis questioned, internally wondering how many times a person could flush bright red in the course of a conversation.

“I said,” he smirked, “there’s no specific evidence that shows that all vampires _have_ to sustain themselves on human blood. Many have discussed the possibility of vampires being able to live on animal blood. Like rare steak, for example.” He sighed an exaggerated sigh and continued on. “They’re so often presented, as they are in your book, as soulless life suckers who go around killing people for sport. Or monsters with uncontrollable thirst. When in reality, it's not like that. Sure, they eat, but most humans eat animals too. And yes, they like the smell and taste of blood, yeah, but they don't just walk up to people and bite them.”

“Harry, I-”

“And they have things they like better than others. It's the same as anyone else. For example, Louis, you might like sashimi, right? You might enjoy the way it tastes, but someone else might come along who thinks it smells and tastes terrible. Or they feel super conflicted about raw fish, you know? Like, they don't want to hurt any fish, so they don't eat it, but they can't help it if other people do, and sometimes they really still like the way a certain sushi roll smells, and they feel drawn to it, even if they don't really want to eat it, you know?”

Louis burst out into laughter at Harry’s stricken face.

“Harry! It's not like vampires are real! And even if they are, you're talking about them like they have souls, like they care and are kind, good beings. These are literally demons we’re talking about.” Louis chuckled, wiping his eyes.

Harry sat there a moment, seemingly stunned into silence, before closing the book with a loud pop and gathering all of his things.

“Thank you, Professor Tomlinson, for this rather enlightening conversation.” He said, his voice a lot more steel and a lot less silk.

Louis blanched.

“Harry… I'm sorry if I offended you in some way?”

Harry nodded once, just one short nod of the head, turned on his heels and walked to the door. “Have a good night, sir.”

And just like that, he was gone.

 


	2. The Next Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has never met another human being in his life who had such an impact on him in such a short amount of time. And maybe that's the point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I have to say thank you to the world's most INCREDIBLE betas, without whom none of this would be possible.
> 
> Also thank you to everyone who has enjoyed this so far, and who has asked for more. I can feel this expanding a bit. Vampires have taken over my life! 
> 
> Also, come and chat on Tumblr if you'd like. Alarrylarrie. 
> 
> Lastly, please do not share or send this to any person in or affiliated with One Direction. If one of them stumbles on it, it's because they were looking for it. Enjoy!

Louis sat in stunned silence for at least a full five minutes after Harry swept out of the door. _What the hell just happened?_ He thought to himself, still unsure. _And why didn't I go after him?_

He wondered if Harry would actually come back to audit the class later that evening. He frowned, thoughts racing and crackling around in his head like a live wire. Why was Harry having such an effect on him?

Getting up from his desk chair, he peeked out of his office and into his classroom. Nothing. He felt so keyed up and he had a class to teach in about an hour. At this rate, he would never be able to focus on teaching. He just needed to calm down, to relax.

Images of his mysterious stranger flashed through his mind. His flowing crop of long dark curls, his sharp cheekbones, his chiseled jaw, his absolutely sinful mouth. He could feel the heat of arousal unfurl in the pit of his stomach where unease had sat only a couple hours before. His cock was twitching in his pants excitedly, as Louis vividly and wildly fantasized a completely different scenario involving Harry than the one that had just played out.

Louis hadn't met someone he was as attracted to as he was to Harry in his entire life. He tried to figure out how a few minutes with Harry could have impacted him so much before he was interrupted by the next image of Harry wrapping his obscenely big, pale, cool hand around Louis’ now achingly hard cock, flashed before him.

He adjusted his trousers and shuffled back to his desk, closing and locking the door behind him, drawing the shade down. He had never, in his years of teaching, had a wank in his office. (Unlike _some_ professors he knew, ahem, Liam) But now seemed like a damn good time to start, especially with the XXX movie playing in his mind.

He sighed as he grabbed some tissues and sat in his desk chair. Unzipping his trousers, he felt embarrassed for a fleeting moment, before his hand touched his cock and Harry’s mouth, pink and perfect and almost certainly warm, appeared in the 3D IMAX that was his brain. He began to move quickly, his grip intense, almost punishing, as he sought to drive out and satiate the lust he felt powerless against.

Right when he was about to come, as he was replaying Harry saying his name in that rumbling voice of his, his fantasy changed out of nowhere. Harry was beside him, sensually sinking a set of long fangs into the side of his neck. With that image seared behind his eyes, Louis came with a long, guttural moan, thrusting aggressively into his own hand, cock shooting so hard, hot, and high that Louis’ world went completely dark for a split second. He didn't catch all of it with the tissues, making’ a mess; a white ribbon of come dropping onto his desk.

Louis didn't know if his heart was beating, and for a moment he was afraid he would pass out, until it seemed to kick back in high gear, his pulse erratic. He fell back into his chair, completely spent, and tried to bring down his pulse to a normal rate. It was the best orgasm he’d had in years, maybe the best orgasm ever.

_What. The. Fuck._

Still a touch out of breath, Louis cleaned himself up with the tissues he usually reserved for crying students, and tucked himself back into his pants.

So… vampires (not to mention, Harry as a vampire...) were invading his sexual fantasies now?

He shook his head at his own foolishness. He had studied vampire literature for years, and sure some of it was fairly erotic. In fact, sexual subtext was something his classes often discussed, how biting could be seen as a substitution for penetration.

 _It means I want Harry to penetrate me_. He chuckled at that, his cheeks inflamed, because if nothing else, it was the goddamn truth.

He opened his new book and attempted to read the first chapter about five times, eyes always reading and rereading the same words over and over, thoughts sliding to Harry on an almost incessant loop. On the sixth attempt, he slammed the book shut and groaned loudly. He briefly considered making a cup of tea, his last gone cold long ago.

Deciding against it, he slumped back in his desk chair. He willed himself to stay awake, but could feel his eyes drooping with exhaustion, the emotional roller coaster of this day caught up with him all at once.

He woke up with a start to the sound of someone loudly knocking at his office door.

“Professor Tomlinson” the voice called, “are you in there?”

Louis blinked back his sleep and looked at the clock on his laptop screen. _Shit._ He was supposed to have started class ten minutes ago. He unlocked and opened the door, where one of his favorite students looked at him with concern, and a classroom full of students stared at him.

He took a long, sweeping glance across the room (decidedly _not_ looking for Harry, thank you very much).

He wasn’t there.   

Louis sighed heavily.

“Class. I'm not feeling very well this evening, so I am cancelling tonight. I apologize if this is an inconvenience. We will go over this material next week, and incredibly, each of you just aced your pop quiz.” Instead of a cheer they blinked back at him.  “Have a good night, you are dismissed.”

His students huffed and puffed their surprise, and Louis was pleased at their dedication. The girl who had knocked, Perrie, approached him softly, a question in her eyes.

“Are you okay, Professor Tomlinson?”

“I'm fine, love. Just a tired is all. A bit under the weather. I’m headed home to relax, you should do the same. Thank you for worrying, but I'm okay.”

She smiled shyly then, and turned to gather her things. Louis watched her leave, giving her another reassuring smile, before turning back to his office to collect his own things and head back to his apartment.

Walking in the crisp autumn night air, Louis shivered into his coat and stayed close to streetlights. He felt odd and off balance again, as if he was being followed, and he took several glances around his surroundings every couple hundred metres. Though he never saw anyone, he quickened his pace in an effort to get home as soon as possible.

Once home, he closed and locked the door behind him, flipping all of the lights on in an effort to settle his discomfort. He sunk onto his couch with his new book after he had changed into joggers and a hooded jumper.

He wasn’t hungry and was all caught up on _True Blood_. Which he watched strictly for research, it was Louis’ job, it wasn't like he enjoyed the show, or anything. He knew he still wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his new book. His apartment was too quiet. He was restless and skittish.

He briefly considered another wank, his cock twitching at the thought of it, but then remembered his last with a grimace, his heart hardly recovered from his last go ‘round.

 _Fuck it._ He needed to go for a run.

His doctor gave him a running regimen that was safe and would keep him healthy. He had to remember to take it easy, to listen to his heart, and to quit if he needed to. He wore a monitor when he ran, and it was programmed to beep at him if he went too far. Louis grabbed it from his bedroom and laced up his shoes. He would be extra gentle with himself tonight.

He just needed to do _something._

As he started to take his normal route around campus, he stretched his legs and fell into a nice, easy pace. It felt amazing.  He worked out the uneasy feelings that had been lingering and pestering him all day. He turned up the music in his earbuds, and reveled in the light burn in his lungs.

As he turned a corner, he very nearly ran into an extremely pale blonde man, who leered at him. Louis was so surprised he tripped over his own feet. His monitor beeped; his heart skipping a couple of beats at the encounter.

Anxiety flooded Louis’ system once more. He turned to look back, but the blonde man was nowhere to be found. Unsettled, Louis started up his easy jogging pace once again. He swore he heard footsteps behind him, despite the music pumping in his ears, so he upped his pace a bit.

He needed to get back to his apartment. His monitor beeped.

He could still hear footsteps keeping pace with him, but when he looked around nothing was there.

He upped his pace again.  

Dread had tied itself to Louis like chains around his feet. He heard a noise like a flapping of wings, and he took off in a sprint, his heart monitor beeping angrily.

A block away from his apartment building, he fell to the ground. His blood roared in his ears and his monitor beeped furiously.

Everything went black.

He sort of came to when a pair of strong arms wrapped around him and lifted him up. Everything was still fuzzy and dark, except pale skin and long dark curls. Had he died? Was Harry his angel?

“Jesus Christ Louis, your heart. You have to be more careful! Lou. Can you hear me Louis? Curses, what do I do now?”

Louis went to answer but moaned instead. Harry was touching him, holding him, he was here, and even in the state he was in, it caused another palpitation, more beeps, and he passed out again.

                                                                                                              

                          X 

When he woke, he was in a hospital gown, sitting in a hospital bed. The bright fluorescents a stark contrast to the night sky he last remembered. Liam was in a chair laughing quietly at some magazine.

"Liam,” Louis croaked.

“Oh god! You're awake.” Liam muttered, jumping up from his seat. “How you feeling, mate?”

Louis frowned. “I feel wonderful Liam, really, top notch. Think I'll finally register for a marathon. What happened?”

“You don't remember?” Liam asked. “ The doctor called it a ‘cardiac incident.’ Thankfully you were running by the hospital because they were able to give you the right meds and stuff and here you are!”

“But. That wasn’t my route. How did I get here?”

Liam hesitated. “I don't know mate. The doctors said you called in or something. Speaking of, I'm going to go tell ‘em you're awake. I'm really glad you're okay Louis.”

Louis swallowed. He had so many questions, but he pushed them aside. “Thanks Liam, and thanks for being here.”

“Course man. Can't wait until you get out. We’re going to celebrate! Quietly of course.” Liam grinned at him, then left the room in search of a doctor.

Alone with his thoughts, Louis tried to piece together the events that had led to his current situation. He didn't remember much, just fear and the burn of his muscles. He vaguely remembered Harry, a flash of his hair and pale jaw line, but his brain was a bit blurry around the edges.

He felt all the stickers of the EKG monitor on his chest and sighed. Louis was no stranger to hospitals, no stranger to these machines, and he never was happy to be attached to them. He hoped he didn't have to stay long this time.

 

                             X                                                                                    

 After speaking with his doctor, he learned that he was going to have to stay another two nights for observation. He hadn't had a heart attack, but according to his physician, his condition was “rather serious” and he would be facing major surgeries in a couple years. He was used to the other spiels the doctors gave, eat better, find ways to be active without pushing his limits, try to avoid stress etc. etc.

His few days passed rather quickly. Thankfully Liam took charge of his course load, finding substitute teachers and informing the dean of Louis’ need for some time off. Liam brought up his laptop and a couple of books, and Louis spent his days confined to a hospital room. Doctors came and went, nurses too, always poking and prodding at him like an animal in a cage. It was all too familiar to Louis, however, as familiar as the lovingly worn pages of his Anne Rice collection.

At night, he dreamed of Harry.

He wasn’t getting much sleep anyway, what with constant interruptions from the night staff. What little sleep he did get was plagued by the same thematic dreams. Harry was a vampire, Harry was trying to hunt him down, Harry was watching him, and Louis’ personal favorite, Harry was after him for sex. Those dreams often left him hard and lonely, full of want and need for release. But Louis was absolutely not about to jack off in a hospital for nurse doing rounds to walk in on, no thanks.

The morning of the third day dawned, and Louis was itching to get back to his own apartment. His mum had wanted to come and stay with him, but Louis had assured her that he was being well taken care of by Liam, who had decided that he and Louis were, without a doubt, going out that night to celebrate Louis’ health and release from the hospital.

Louis had originally protested of course, begging for a quiet night of takeaway and Netflix at his apartment, but Liam insisted, convinced it had been far too long since the last time Louis had let himself have fun.

After spending a vast majority of the day in sweats and with the cast of Buffy, The Vampire Slayer, he was actually sort of looking forward to going out. Maybe he’d even meet someone new.

_Someone like Harry._

Louis pushed that thought out of his mind, or tried to, as he stood in front of his closet. He certainly did not have Harry in mind as he wanked in the shower, and definitely not as he chose his best and favorite jeans that showed off his most prominent, well, asset.

Completing his look with a t-shirt and a blazer, he was debating whether or not to bring his glasses when Liam texted telling Louis he was outside waiting, asking when he thought he would grace him with his presence. Louis sent him back the kiss emoji and the peach emoji, before grabbing his glasses and heading out.

He felt truly relaxed for the first time in a week, even with Liam blaring his terrible music. Louis admired his friend, no matter is questionable music taste. Liam was such a good egg, and despite their differences, Louis was forever grateful to have him as a friend. He was the kind of guy to give you the shirt off of his back, his students adored him, and he was fiercely loyal. Louis loved him like the brother he had never had. He was definitely looking forward to hanging out and having a drink or two with his best mate. After his rollercoaster week, he was ready to chill out.

Oddly enough then, that the moment he stepped up to the door of the bar, his stomach dropped to his knees.

It was very dark inside, the music far too loud, and Louis momentarily thought of fleeing. Liam must have sensed his hesitation, and gently took his arm and led him to the bar.  Louis tried to shake of the uneasy feeling that had taken up residence in his mind, taken over his body.  He wanted to have a good time, relax, enjoy time with his best mate.

Liam ordered their drinks, and started chatting to Louis about some footie match he had missed when Louis caught a figure moving across the room towards them.

 _Harry_.

Or… was it? The man was as tall as Harry, had the same build, the same glass cutting cheekbones and jawline. But this man was tan, hell he was practically glowing. His hair was almost perfect loose ringlet curls, bouncy and shiny. He seemed to radiate, as if there was a light inside of him shining from within. He was not the pale, drained looking man who had sat in Louis’ office just four days prior. He was illuminated. He was stunning. Harry looked directly at Louis from across the room, as if he had been watching him all along.

All of the breath left Louis’ lungs.

Harry’s face was even more intense, as if someone had brought to life the most incredible artwork ever made. His eyes were a deep, pure green, the lashes around them long and thick, and for just a split second Louis wondered if he was wearing makeup. His lips were no longer pink but a deep stained red, his lips tantalizing against his flawless white teeth. He seemed to almost shimmer, and Louis felt his entire body flush. He could feel himself almost reaching out, aching to touch him. His heart rate picked up, of course, as it seemed to around Harry.

Harry was wearing black skinny jeans that looked like he had been poured into. His shirt was a blue silk pattern, more modern than his pirate blouse from before, the top three buttons (at least) undone.

Louis shook his head. There was no way in hell this was the same person who had sat in his office correcting him on his book about vampires.

No possible way.

And yet, he couldn't figure out who else it could be! Harry kept looking at Louis with an intensity that almost hurt Louis’ eyes, but he looked nervous. He ran a hand through his shining brown curls and came to a stop just before Louis. He looked even better than the night he and Louis had met, but even more intimidating. It was too much perfection. It almost hurt his eyes to stare at Harry for too long, even though it seemed every eye in the room was on him. He was a rockstar. He was sex personified. He was a flame. And Louis was burning.

“Hello, Professor Tomlinson.”

Liam sputtered his drink out, and whispered to Louis.

“You _know_ him?”

Harry chuckled, the deep rumbling from that broad chest of his, and Louis was again at a loss for words.

“Louis here had the unpleasant fortune of being subjected to me the other night. My name’s Harry, Harry Styles.”

Harry reached out to shake Liam’s hand.

 _No fair,_ Louis thought. _I want to touch him._

“Liam Payne. Nice to meet you mate!” Liam chirped, shooting a look to Louis, who was still just gaping at Harry in front of him. “Can I just say you smell fantastic? What is that?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno. Might just be me.” He smiled wickedly then, and turned his attention to Louis. “Mind if I have a word with Louis, Mr. Payne? I need to apologize for the other night.”

Liam scoffed. “Please call me Liam. And of course! Just be delicate with him, he's had a rather rough week.”

“Liam… don't. Please.” Louis whispered.

Harry nodded gravely. “I promise you nothing will happen to Louis while he is with me. _Nothing_.” He said firmly, looking at Louis with concern.

“Alright mate, well I'm off. Have a good time you two,” Liam teased, “think I'll go talk to that blonde bloke over there, he looks friendly!”

Harry and Louis both looked to who Liam was gesturing at, and Louis burst out laughing when he saw him. He was probably the second most beautiful man in the room next to Harry, same radiating skin, but with gorgeous blue eyes that seemed too intense for his surroundings. He stared at the room with a frown, his arms crossed, as if he was judging and disapproving of everyone around him.

“Oh Liam, that's my friend Niall.” Harry stated, and Louis was surprised at the slight tone of venom laced in his voice. “He's really rather boring, and likes to be left alone most times. Why don't you go try that tall drink of water over there?” He pointed out a very handsome man who already seemed to have sized them up because he looked directly at Liam and winked. “He’s been looking at you since you came in.”

Liam flushed. “Cheers!” He laughed, as he grabbed his drink and headed over.

“Well done.” Louis said dryly, “Would you mind explaining to me what the hell is going on?”

“Louis I-”

“Listen Harry,” Louis growled, “if that is even who you are! First, you show up in my class unannounced. Then, you ask for an interview before proceeding to insult my work. Then you simply vanish into thin air, and now here you are.  At least I think it’s you,  except you look completely different from the last time I saw you!? I want answers!” Louis threw up his hands, exasperated, and confused. How could Harry be acting so nonchalant? It was infuriating.

“Okay.” Harry stated simply. “I'll let you ask whatever questions you want. Would you like to sit down?”

“I guess.” Louis huffed allowing himself to be led to a table in a corner by Harry.

“Would you like anything, Louis? Something to drink, or something to eat?” Harry fluttered his lashes just so, and Louis couldn't even answer. He was just so beautiful. Spellbinding, even. It was as if the Harry he had met previously was a shell of this Himeros across the table from him now.

But whereas that Harry had come off as aloof, this one seemed nervous. As if Louis was threatening. He kept looking to Louis and almost wincing, flinching as his gaze skittered across the room and back to Louis on a loop.

“No thank you Harry, I'm fine. I'd just like to know what's going on.”

Harry signaled that he should continue, folding his hands in his lap and bowing his head, resigned to the barrage of questions he had to have known were barreling out of Louis.

“Did get a spray tan?”

Harry smiled, sadly. “No.”

“Are you wearing contacts?”

“No.”

“What about makeup? Get your hair done?”

“No.”

“Can you explain why you look so differently than the last time I saw you then?”

He hesitated. “I can…”

“So explain, please.”

Harry looked at him then, his eyes searching his face. Louis frowned and crossed his arms, impatient.

Harry shrugged. “I'm hungry,” was all he said, slowly, deliberately, as if that should explain it all. 

“Hungry?” Louis asked, incredulous. “You completely change your physical appearance because you're _hungry_?”

Harry sighed deeply, put his hands on the table, and leaned forward. His same vanilla leather smell, more intense than Louis had ever smelt it before, wafted towards him. He momentarily felt weak, and Harry’s eyebrows instantly knit together.

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Harry murmured.

“Try me.” Louis challenged.

Harry stared right into him, his beautiful green eyes piercing, and for a second Louis was convinced Harry could see right down into his soul. He felt naked, exposed, and overwhelmed, lust still flittering around the back of his mind. Would he ever stop wanting Harry? He waited, still frozen into place by the ferocity of Harry’s penetrating gaze.

“I'm a vampire, Louis.”   



	3. The Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is not convinced. Until he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you to my INCREDIBLE betas and support system!! I love you all. 
> 
> This little Halloween fic is turning into something much more... I hope you'll stick with me, I'm having fun!

Louis barked a laugh, bright and high, so loud it cut through some of the noise of the dark bar and people turned toward them.   
Harry stared at him, frowning deeply.

“I'm serious.” He stated, with finality.

Louis wiped a tear from his eye. He shook his head and wagged a finger at Harry.

“That's cute, you're committed. Which one of my students put you up to this?” He giggled, putting his hand over his mouth. Harry’s nose scrunched up a bit at that, but moved to reach for Louis’ hand, slowly, hesitating, like he was nervous to touch him.

Louis sat stunned as Harry laid a hand on his. He was pretty sure his heart turned off and then on again, the pout on Harry’s face deepening. His hand was so warm, pleasantly so, and Louis could feel electricity buzzing through his veins. If Harry hadn't been trying to pull one over on him with this vampire nonsense, he might have started turning on his charms.

“Louis. I'm serious.”

“Harry. Vampires aren't real.”

“Yes, they are.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Okay,” Harry sighed, taking his hand off of Louis’ and sitting back against the booth, “I suppose you know better than I. Being an expert and all.”

“Harry, this isn't funny. You can't be a vampire!” Louis retorted.

“And why not?”

“Because you'd be killing people! You said you were hungry, right? Hungry vampires don't just hang out in a bar full of humans. That's like a wolf hanging out in a rabbit’s den. It would go against what vampires are, their nature.”

“So how would you explain my physical changes?”

Louis smiled. “I told you. Spray tan, contacts, hair appointment.”

“Hm. Alright. How about the fact that I know that your heart is beating at exactly 105 beats per minute now? A bit high for a resting heart rate, but you know that already…”

Louis laughed.

“I'm serious. I'll wait. You can time it.”

“Harry I—”

“Time your goddamn pulse Louis.” Harry growled, his voice menacing. Louis stared at him for a beat. He felt a ripple of fear run through him, which was surprising, but tapped two fingers to his pulse point on his neck and looked at his watch. As he counted the beats silently, his eyes widened when he realized Harry would be dead on.

“How did you—?” Louis whispered, shaking his head and looking at his watch.

“I told you. I'm a vampire. I can hear heartbeats, yours it seems, specifically well.” Harry stammered cutely, and again Louis was hit with a dizzying wave of desire. It would be his luck that the first guy he would find super attractive would be… well, whatever Harry was.

“Okay, so you know my heart rate. That still doesn't explain how you're sitting in a room full of warm bodies, all pumping full of blood, and you're just so—”

“I've been… around for a long time, Louis. I've learned patience and self control.” Harry interrupted, a pained look on his face.

“Oh so you're just waiting until we’ve all had too much to drink, then you're going to kill and eat everyone? Fangs at the ready, and all?” Louis teased. He had no idea why he was joking about something so morbid, and Harry shot him such a look he immediately began to apologize.

“Look Harry I—”

“Louis. I don't expect you to understand this, but I would rather prefer if you don't speak that way please. Remember when we met? And I explained that not all vampires are the way you've been led to believe they are? Well, I'm one of the exceptions, I guess you'd say. I don't drink human blood. The idea of that is—well it's just appalling to me.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Why are you telling me this?” Louis questioned, indignant. “Let's say you're telling the truth, which, is a leap of faith at best. You're telling me you're like the vegetarian of vampires? How very _Twilight_ of you. Does this make me Bella?”

Harry laughed, the sound of symphonies surrounding Louis, and felt himself leaning forward, as if drawn in by a magnet.

Goddamn Harry was beautiful. Louis had been so attracted to him the other day, but like this? Glowing and intense and perfect? He would briefly consider throwing himself into traffic if Harry asked. This vampire thing, however, was tragic. Louis had studied the mythos of vampires his whole life, and had never come across any evidence that vampires were legitimate. He had come across plenty of information about people who fancied themselves vampires, poor misguided souls who actually drank human blood and bit each other whilst having sex. It was odd, to say the least ,but not in any way truth.

Harry didn't seem the sort. Not to mention he had said he didn't even drink human blood. And then there was his drastic appearance change, and on top of that Harry said he could hear Louis’ heartbeat, had proved he at least knew what his heart rate was at that moment, which was… interesting. To be honest, Louis wasn't sure what to make of all of it. It was just his luck that someone as incredible as Harry would be, well, not all there mentally. But why bring him into it?

“Why are you telling me this?” Louis asked, leaning forward, his interest getting the better of him. If nothing else, he was incredibly curious.

Harry looked perplexed, as if he didn't quite know the answer himself.

“I wanted someone to know, I guess? You've studied vampires your whole life, as you said, and I just wanted someone to know that they are real. I am real. I exist. And I feel like I'm constantly being misrepresented. I don't think I'm scary, I'm just who I am. I wanted to set the record straight with someone, I suppose. Dunno.” He scowled then, twisting his fingers and fidgeting, and Louis instantly felt sorry for him. “Reckon that doesn't make much sense to you.” No matter what was true or not, Harry believed this about himself.

Louis clapped his hands together suddenly, causing Harry to flinch.

“Well, alright! What this conversation needs is more alcohol. I am severely under intoxicated, at the moment. Shall we drink, dance, and be merry, young Harold? Although I suppose, if what you're telling me is true, you're not so young after all.” Louis teased, scooting to the edge of his seat and shooting Harry a flirty look. What the hell, why not?

Harry’s mouth twitched into a fractional smile and his nose scrunched up. “Of course. What can I get you?” He purred, oozing charm, and Louis had to remind himself that the man across from him in the booth quite literally believed himself to be a vampire. He might be the most fucking unbelievably attractive man Louis had ever seen, but he also considered himself a mythical being, making him probably the most insane as well. Louis’ brain and cock were arguing, and he wasn't sure which one he wanted to win.

“Scotch. Neat. Please.”

As Harry got up from the booth, Louis scanned the room for Liam. He contemplated fleeing, texting Liam to tell him he was sick or something, but he didn't have a car and didn't feel like paying for a cab.

Harry returned in a flash it seemed, with a bottle of scotch. A really, really expensive bottle of scotch. Louis blinked at him, and Harry grinned, devilish and coy at the same time.

“What can I say?” Harry started, uncapping the bottle, and pouring their drinks. He had a heavy hand, and Louis’ eyes bugged out. “Being immortal comes with certain.. ah… perks?”

Louis took the glass and knocked it back in one swift go.

“Fabulous. I'll have another, please.”

Harry looked him up and down, downed his drink back neatly, and eyed Louis like he was accepting his challenge.

He poured another for both of them.

“So you can eat and drink eh? Interesting. Do you get drunk? Also, wouldn't a Bloody Mary be more your speed?”

He waggled his eyebrows at Harry, who chuckled.

“Yes, vampires _can_ eat and drink, we just usually don't because there’s no point, really, so most only do it when we’re keeping up appearances. Also, alcohol doesn't affect me like it does you, but Bloody Mary’s don't strike my fancy, so I'll stick with scotch if you don't mind.”

“Well, a few more of these, Mr. Styles, and you'll be carrying me out of here.” Louis flirted, batting his eyelashes. He was only human, after all.

Harry flirted right back. “Nothing I haven't done before, Professor Tomlinson.”

“Of all the bars in all the world, a gay vampire who can eat and drink and doesn't like the taste of human blood walks into mine.”

“Is this your bar, then? Would explain the terrible decor and the funny smell.”

“Oi!” Louis cried. “I do not smell funny, do I?” He lifted his arm to give a tiny test sniff and Harry cackled, his lips pulling back away from his teeth. He had a dimple when he smiled, and his laugh was symphonic. It wasn't fair. Louis didn't stand a chance against curls and green eyes, against dimples and a sexy body.

“No, you don't smell funny. You actually smell quite fantastic.” Harry confessed, his voice dropping low.

Louis preened under the compliment. “What do I smell like to you?”

Harry paused.

“You smell like old books.” He smiled, waving off Louis’ noise of protest. “You smell like old books, like ink, like parchment, um, paper. You smell like leather and dust, and something so familiar and sweet that I can't quite get under my thumb. You smell like nostalgia, like a memory, you smell like something from a time long forgotten. You smell like my past… you.” He twisted his ring around his finger again, looking helpless as he wouldn't meet Louis’ gaze. “You smell like home.” He whispered, taking his glass in his hand and studying it a moment before draining it.

Louis gulped, his hand trembling as he reached for his glass.

“I definitely need more alcohol for this.”

Harry looked at him, stricken.

“Oh Louis, I'm sorry, I've said too much and caused you to fret. My apologies.”

Louis laughed, finally feeling the warmth of the alcohol flowing through his veins. “Harry, you literally told me ten minutes ago that you're a mythical being. I think that takes the cake, if you will.” He raised his brows and tilted his head towards the half empty bottle of scotch, and Harry nodded, as if to give him permission to fill his glass again.

“So Harry,” Louis began, slowly, alcohol now starting to take over parts of his brain, “come here often?”

Harry smirked over his own pouring. It was a good thing alcohol didn't affect him much, someone was going to have to make sure they got home responsibly.

“Not recently. Haven't had much of a reason.” He countered.

“‘S too bad… I bet loads of guys would stand in line for you.”

Harry ducked his head bashfully, playfully. “Anyone you know of in particular?” He asked.

“Maybe.” Louis let his statement hang in the air a moment before scooting out of the booth, terribly clumsily, then stood and stretched, decidedly not accentuating his arse, thank you very much. “Need to use the loo.”

Harry just stared at him, and Louis attempted to saunter away sexily. He would have succeeded, save for the alcohol now working its way to his limbs, rendering him unable to do much of anything sensually.

After he finished at the urinal, he was turning to wash his hands when he saw Harry draped in the doorway. He had lost some of his shimmer, his skin a bit paler, his eyes a duller green, but not by too much, only as if he were slightly… muted. Louis didn't want to know what that meant. Harry watched Louis finish washing his hands and then in three long strides closed the distance between them.

Louis gasped as Harry grabbed his face in his hands and rested his forehead on his, staring into his eyes.

“H-Harry?” He gulped. “Wha-what are y-you doing?”

Harry sighed, then inhaled deeply. His breath smelled of mint and alcohol and was slightly cool, his hands on Louis’ face not blazing warm or frigid, but almost normal.

“You're infuriatingly attractive, Louis Tomlinson. I'm having a hard time controlling myself around you. Can I, may I, kiss you, _please_?”

Louis blinked three times, slowly, and felt his heart take off at a dead run. Harry hesitated, like he was going to break away and leave Louis there, so instead of saying anything or even nodding, he inched forward slightly and closed his eyes at the moment his lips pressed against Harry’s perfect, ample lips.

He let out the tiniest moan, and Harry instantly responded, placing one hand gently over Louis’ heart and wrapping the other around his waist. The kiss was lovely, sweet, light, and soft. Louis however, was not satisfied, and curled his fingers into Harry’s shirt, attempting to pull him closer and deepen the kiss.

Harry broke away.

“Louis.” He groaned, and Louis nearly fell apart right there, at the way Harry said his name. “I have to be gentle with you. I'm thinking of your heart, please.”

Louis wanted to be the bigger person, wanted to tell his cock to stop screaming at him, but alcohol and arousal were dancing a heady dance all around him.

“Please,” he whispered, and in a flash Harry was kissing him again, fuller this time, deeper. Louis moaned, the way Harry kissed was as perfect as he looked. Harry began to move them toward the wall, Louis floating backwards under Harry’s powerful hold.

He gently pulled Louis’ hands above his head and caged him in, his lips never leaving Louis’. The kiss intensified, Harry hesitating for just a fraction of a second before sliding a tongue into Louis’ mouth, moving his hands off of Louis’, who instantly grabbed Harry’s shirt again, the fabric rich and smooth under his hands.

His cock was painfully hard now, aching in his pants, and Harry moved to slide a leg in for Louis to straddle, Louis happily obliging him. He rocked his hips forward a bit, gasping, Harry moaning softly before murmuring a warning into his ear.

“ _Louis_.”

Louis knew he was being reckless but he couldn't help himself. Harry was incredibly hot and everything he wanted, and the alcohol had settled nicely into his system, chanting at him to push for more.

He rocked his hips forward again, eyes fluttering shut as he chased the friction on his cock. He heaved a sigh and shuddered when Harry dipped down to kiss him again.

He could kiss him like this for hours, for days if possible, the whole world fading around them.

It felt, achingly familiar, as if Louis had been here and had done this before. He didn't really know what to do with that thought, as his body searched for a release and his heart warned him not to push it too far. The intensity of his emotions combined with the want and need was too much for Louis, and he pulled off Harry’s lips without warning.

Harry’s hands, which had unbuttoned his blazer and were roaming his body, instantly stilled. He looked at Louis who ducked his head and blushed. Harry slowly detangled himself from Louis awkwardly, both of them staring at the ground, not looking at each other.

“Harry. I just—”

“Louis, please don't apologize. I should be apologizing. I didn't mean—”

“No, Harry, let me, please.” He begged, shuffling, willing the blood that was still pooling towards his cock to go somewhere else. Preferably his brain, so he could think straight. His cock was throbbing, and Harry winced infinitesimally on every throb… almost as if… as if he could _hear_ it.

Louis shook that thought out of his head and attempted to stop the spinning. Damn, that was good scotch.

“Harry. I'm sorry if I pushed too much. You're, well, you're obviously very attractive and I…” he trailed off, not even sure himself where he was going, carding his hand through his hair and attempting to look less disheveled. Harry finally met his gaze, his lips a delicious shade of perfect pink, eyes still hungry and hooded as he stared at Louis.

He looked down at Louis’ predicament, not attempting to hide his own, and licked his lips when he landed on Louis’ cock. Louis nearly came at the sight, his cock throbbing once more, and instead of wincing Harry swallowed and closed his eyes as if he were praying.

“Louis. I'd love to chat about this later.” He said evenly. “But, right now I'd very much like to pick up where we just left off, please.”

Louis groaned and threw up his hands. “How are you so bloody calm? You're supposed to be a _vampire_ Harry! Aren't you, like, going to try and bite me or some shit?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed immediately, a scowl taking over his whole face.

“Am I not acting vampiric enough for you, Louis?” He threatened, crossing his arms. “Enlighten me, then, how this is supposed to work. You're the expert, after all.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, don't put this back on me. What am I supposed to think?” Louis countered. “All’s I know is my research, which says that vampires like to feed while mating. You didn't even go near my neck!”

“Louis. If I bite you, I'll kill you. I'd really rather not. I'd kind of prefer to keep you alive, if I'm honest. Get to know you a little.” Harry huffed, haughtily.

“But my point is you're not supposed to be able to control yourself! That's like part of the whole thing!” Louis whined. He knew he was throwing a bit of a tantrum at this point, but he couldn't make himself shut up. It was impossible to reconcile all he had learned about vampires with Harry in front of him, acting completely normal.

“The whole thing?” Harry asked, sarcastically. “You mean who I am, _what_ I am? Look, Louis, I know this might be hard for you, but vampires exist, but not the way you've been taught. I'm willing to prove that to you, if you’d just—”

At that moment, Harry’s blonde friend Niall opened the door, looking much paler and dull than when he had arrived. Louis shuddered to think of what that could mean.

“Jesus Harry, you done yet? I know you're out of practice mate, but—”

He stopped suddenly when he saw Louis peek around Harry.

“Oh. I. Oh.” He stuttered, eyes widened in surprise. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize…”

“Niall, I'll meet up with you later, okay?” Harry said, as he turned to face Niall. There was something veiled in his tone that Louis couldn't place.

Niall smirked and looked Louis up and down. Louis shivered under his gaze.

“Yeah, alright Harry. Ring if you need me.” He shot one last long, frigid gaze at Louis before walking out of the restroom.

Harry stood, back to Louis, not turning around.

“So…” Louis started, curiously. “What did he think you were up to?”

Harry sighed as he turned slowly to face Louis again. “I suppose the same thing you thought I wouldn't be able to hold back from.”

“Is it wrong of me to think you losing control of yourself around me wouldn't be such a bad thing?” Louis offered.

Harry stared at him for a beat. “You.. what?”

“Don't think so much. You want to know what I think? I think it would be terrible to always be in my head, instead of just enjoying myself. What happens if you let go a little?”

Louis knew he was pushing at Harry a bit, but he was dying to see if he was really as dangerous as he was insinuating, or if he was bluffing. Louis loved a challenge.

Harry stood, unmoving, statuesque. Louis pushed off the wall and moved into his space, slowly and gently, as if he would spook him, and reached up to touch his fingertips to Harry’s face.

Harry’s eyes closed at the moment Louis’ touched him.

“I'm not _afraid_ of you, Harry.” Louis rasped out, his voice husky. “I want to make you feel good.”

Harry swallowed.

“Would you kiss me again, already?” Louis breathed, impatient, and Harry crashed into him, needy and hot. This was a kiss of intensity, and Louis marveled at how firm and incredible Harry felt under his hands. Their kisses were rougher, more passionate, and Louis was giddy with it.

A hand slid towards the waistband of his jeans.

“Oh god,” Louis whined.

“May I please?” Harry waited, hand on the tab of Louis’ zipper.

Louis nodded, unable to speak. Harry’s licked his own hand and found his way around Louis’ cock, Louis’ head falling back at the sensation, Harry chasing his lips.

“Harry. Do you. Um. Oh god.”

Harry continued to stroke him, and Louis was losing himself in the hot, wet glide, hips bucking into Harry’s hand of their own accord. Louis whispered into the shell of Harry’s ear.

“Yes… That feels so good. More. Please. More.”

Harry tightened his grip and Louis moaned, Harry kissing down his, lips moving slowly, as if he were taking his time, enjoying the taste. Louis’ eyes fluttered open and for whatever reason, he picked that moment to look over his shoulder in the mirror to see Harry’s lips had pulled back ever so slightly, and the tiniest fangs gleamed in the fluorescent light around them.

Harry met his eyes in the mirror, a look of sheer terror washing over his face. He clapped a hand over his mouth, his other still on Louis’ cock.

Louis gasped. His heart stopped for a fraction of a second, surprise commingling with his body’s wish for release.

And in a fraction of a second it was as if Harry was thrown back against the sink, across the room, shattering the porcelain bowl. It exploded into tiny fragments and Louis covered his face for a moment.

When he opened his eyes, Harry was staring at him, breathless and terrified, his eyes frozen wide with fear.

It seemed like the world stood still, and all Louis could hear was muffled shouting, and as a heavyset man burst through the door angrily, Harry disappeared in a blur, gone in an instant, moving almost faster than Louis could even see. Louis was left with the furious glare of the bar owner and several dumbfounded patrons leering at him from the thrown door. As Louis tucked his still semi-hard, wet cock back into his pants his mind processed one thought and one thought only.

Harry was a vampire.


	4. They Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry decides to find Louis and prove his existence. Then we pick up where we left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am beyond thanks for my amazing betas, my sister, and my friends that let me moan and whine constantly about this story. You guys are the best!!!

_Harry rubbed his temples in frustration before he closed the book delicately, holding himself back so he didn’t throw it across the room. It was so upsetting to read about what he supposedly was, especially when people got it so wrong._

  _Niall strolled into the room, a ridiculous smile pasted on his face as he flopped onto the sofa._

_“What's wrong Harry? Hungry?”_

_“Stop it, Ni. Please. I don't talk to you about your… eating habits, so don't tease me about mine.” Harry grumbled._

_“Mate, you're practically dripping glitter. You look like fucking Hercules right now. I know you're hungry. Just, go eat something.” He waved his pale hand, as if he were dismissing Harry, his pale blue eyes dull and listless._

" _You know it's not that simple, Niall!” Harry snapped, baring his teeth, infuriated by the grin that slowly took over Niall’s stupid face._

" _Harry. We’ve been friends for what, two hundred years? I know you hate it, but this is who you are. You need to learn to embrace it. This is forever. Are you really going to spend eternity hating yourself?”_

_Harry froze at that._

_“Niall, you know what I've done.”_

_“Harry man, find me one of us who hasn't. Find me one with as clean of a record as yours even. We obviously won't bring my tally into play.” Niall grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at his friend, reaching for their Xbox controller._

_Niall’s approach to being a vampire fascinated Harry._

_His friend only killed and ate people “who deserved it,” he once told Harry. “Criminals, scum, people no one’s going to miss. I'm doing society a favor. I should be thanked, honestly.” He always said with a smirk._

_“I'm going to… go out, for a few days I think,” he said evenly. “I’ll take my phone if you need me.”_

_Niall bobbed his head just once, toggling the controller, making something on the screen explode. “Go spend some money. Seriously. That always makes you happy. Don’t you have some big designer with a new line on reserve for you or something?”_

_Harry looked around at their ridiculous, expensive flat, filled to the brim with every luxury a being could want. One of the only perks of eternal damnation was the ability to make (and save) money. Humans had to sleep all night, every night. Harry only had to be sure to be indoors when it was sunny. He slept every week or so, usually for a day, but he wasn’t reliant on it like humans were. He didn't need food, he didn't have to spend money on travel, (super speed and short distance flying did have their advantages) so he had a lot of spare funds._

_He grabbed his phone, hesitated, and then reached for the book, leaving Niall’s question hanging in the air. True, he did have a custom line at Gucci just waiting for a final fitting, but he was bored of that. He didn't want more fancy clothes, or the latest technological gadget. He wanted to talk to someone, wanted to laugh with someone, wanted someone to understand him. He was lonely, dammit. He was almost four hundred years old, and he was lonely._

_Living with Niall was fine. It provided someone to talk to at 3am, when most of the world was sleeping, but they didn't see eye to eye on much. Niall embraced all things vampire. He told Harry that it wasn't his fault he was at the top of the food chain. He mostly saw himself a vigilante, feeding off of criminals and such. But Harry had a major distaste for the loss of human life, no matter what, so he and Niall would often argue about innocence and guilt, arguments which usually ended with one of them stalking off for a few days. They always came back to each other though, each preferring the tenuous company over isolation. Endless time could be endlessly boring, after all._

_Of course there were others, but vampires were, in Harry’s experience, mostly solitary creatures._

_He didn't remember much of his life before, only that he had been happy. Apart from that, he never knew what, if anything, was a remnant of his former life. Was he an artist before? Did he sing? Was he a quick learner? Had he always been averse to unnecessary bloodshed?_

_He knew the answer to that last question, a horrific reel of his worst moments playing in the back of his mind. Harry knew the names, ages, and faces of every single person he had killed in his early days as a baby vampire, when he had terrorized villages at night. He shuddered as he went through his mental list, the images burned into his retinas for eternity. He would never escape the sounds of their screams, the look of terror on their faces._

_And it was his penance to remember it all forever._

_He didn't deserve companionship outside of Niall, wasn't owed any good karma. He was a monster, true, but he still felt. He just wanted someone to understand him. Someone to see him for who he was and not cower in fear like humans did or laugh at him like Niall did._

_He looked at the book jacket again. The author was named Louis Tomlinson. There was no picture, but it did say that he was only 28. Harry wondered if being young meant he would be easier to talk to._

_Maybe he’s handsome._

_He chastised himself for that thought. Vampire to vampire relationships were hard enough without adding the complexities of the human condition into it. He had the unfair advantage of living in a much more accepting time now, but regardless of a more accommodating time for sexualities, he was what he was. A relationship with a human just would not work in any way. Best to avoid even the thought of it, it would just make him feel his loneliness and depression more._

_So Harry pushed that thought from his mind almost immediately, deciding to go hunting for some animals instead._

_He’s going to go talk to Professor Tomlinson, or try to. He needed to eat first though; he won't get far with this Louis if he's thinking about killing him the whole time._

_As he closed his eyes, he sank to the ground and stilled. He knew if he listened closely he would be able to hear animals around him, and if he focused on one specifically, he could hear their heartbeat. He had to be specifically listening for it though because it was something he usually tuned out. Could you imagine being in a big city, hearing all the heartbeats?_

_Once he heard the weakest heartbeat out of the pack of wolves stalking nearby, he crouched into his hunting position, and grimaced. He hated hunting, but he had to eat.  It was a matter of survival._

_He pounced._

 

_X_

 

_He went back to his flat, and Niall was nowhere to be found. He showered, and stood staring at his reflection. His skin was pale again, his green eyes faded, curls flattened. It was always a bit of a shock to him to see how quickly his reflection changed after feeding. He got dressed in all black, one of his favorite colors, and thanked his lucky stars the forecast called for overcast weather today, so he could travel in the open. He wasn't going far, but it was always a pain to have to work around the sun._

_Harry scribbled out a note for Niall, and he was off._

_As he made his way to the university, he googled the professor list on his phone. Still no picture of Louis Tomlinson, which was odd. He had decided to take the train, and although he was getting a few odd looks here and there, he was enjoying the trip._

_All of the vampires Harry had ever met were very uncomfortable being around people, but Harry was different. He was so curious about how people lived, how they interacted, what their stories were, from the bloke who bumped into him and muttered something about “creepy git” to the nervous young mother who looked at him warily, but also gave him a small smile when they made eye contact._

_Getting off at his stop, he was immediately overwhelmed. It had been a while since he had been around so many people at once, and all of his senses were kicking into overdrive. He contemplated turning around and going straight back home before—_

_“I've got to audit Professor Malik’s class and then Pez and I’ve got Professor Fang tonight, don't we Pezza?”_

_“Oh Jesy, don't call him that, it's Professor Tomlinson, go on now.” The blonde girl quipped, obviously irritated._

_“You've got such a massive crush on Professor Tomlinson, haven't you? Too bad he's gay, darling.”_

_The blonde sighed and rolled her eyes. “Course he’s gay, Jesy, everyone knows that. But he's quite pretty to look at, gay or not, innit?”_

_The girls walked off, and Harry followed, keeping a good distance._

_So he is handsome._

_He was about to give himself another mental talking to when he came upon his sculpture. He and Niall were anonymous patrons of this university, and Harry had commissioned and donated this incredible stone work to the university when it had opened its doors. He stepped into the shadows to admire it, almost saddened by how many students milled past it, not paying any attention, most of them looking downward at their phones._

_It was a stark reality check for Harry, this lone sculpture in the middle of campus that had been in place for a hundred and fifty years, unchanging, forgotten by people who couldn't stop to appreciate the beauty in this stone figure._

_If he were human he would have cried._

_Overwhelmed by feelings of grief, Harry berated himself for even coming to this place. He let himself wallow for a minute when he heard a rustle followed by a soft, small sigh. As he looked to see where it had come from, he was struck by another sound._

_A weak heart. Fluttering._

_Harry frowned instantaneously. He usually only heard heart beats when he wanted to. Why, in the middle of a crowded campus, would he be hearing a heart he wasn't listening for? He wasn't hungry, wasn't hunting, so what was happening?_

_As he listened to the heart rate stutter and fly, then slowly right itself, he peeked to see who the organ could belong to, drowning in curiosity._

_A young man, the most gorgeous being Harry had ever seen, stood staring at the statue. He was compact, smaller than Harry, and incredible. He radiated confidence, from his messy brown fringe that he delicately flicked away from his eyes, to his powerful stance, legs wide, as if by standing in such a way meant he would occupy more space than his smaller frame allowed. His skin was flawless, almost caramel, and when Harry looked at his face he was struck immediately by the blue of his eyes, a blue so searing and intense it reminded him of a lightning storm, a blue electric. His lips were pleasant, he had the most endearing nose, and his chin was dusted with a few days of unshaven stubble._

_Harry wanted to bite him._

_He almost groaned aloud at the sight of him, he was every fantasy he could have imagined. Harry had met kings and world leaders who weren't this beautiful; this man was art. He made Harry want to fall and worship at his feet, write him songs and sonnets for the rest of his days._

_The young man turned away from the statue, spooking a flock of pigeons, and then bound off. Harry, ever the masochist, decided he would follow him._

 

                                                                                                              XXXXXXXX

 

Louis had gone into the bar the day after he and Harry had been there, to apologize and ask about helping replace the broken sink, only for the bartender to tell him that they had received a large, anonymous donation that very morning that would help them renovate the entire building.

Since then it was as if his whole world had shifted just a bit. With the knowledge that vampires existed and that Harry was out there, somewhere, he felt like a terrible fraud teaching his courses as they were.

Not to mention he just kind of missed him.

It had been two weeks since Louis had seen Harry. Not a whisper, a suggestion, or a hint of him, not that Louis was looking. He wasn't.

He had started to toss and turn at night, often having terrifying nightmares. He constantly felt uneasy and on edge, so much so that his doctor gave him a major lecture about stress when he went in for a follow-up appointment and his heart rate and blood pressure were both “catastrophically” high.

His doctor had threatened to put him back in hospital, but Louis refused. He had been told when he was very young that it would be a miracle if he lived to thirty-five. He was twenty eight now, and wanted to spend as much of the time he had left comfortable and living his life. It was a tough thing, to come to grips with your own mortality so young, but Louis knew that life wasn't about the length of time he had, only how he lived within that time.

Liam had tried to cheer him up after his doctor’s visit, but his efforts fell flat. Louis was unable to really explain what had happened that night with Harry, and Liam eventually stopped asking. He was moping, and everyone had noticed, even his students.

After three weeks, Louis stopped looking for Harry around every corner. He stopped thinking he heard his voice in queue at his grocer. He couldn't stop the dreams, however.

Of course it would stand to reason, that when Louis stopped looking for Harry, was exactly when he would show back up again.

Louis was in the middle of grading papers in his office when his stomach fell. Which in recent weeks had only meant…

Harry.

He snapped his neck up and sure enough, draped in the doorway, was a pale, muted, sad looking Harry.

He had his long locks pulled back into a bun, and was wearing a black t-shirt, his trademark black skinny jeans, beat up old boots, and a long black coat. He didn't look like a vampire. He looked very modern. He looked incredibly sexy. He looked like someone Louis would want to take a few bites of.  In a very non-vampiric way.

Louis flicked his fringe out of his face and tugged on his jumper. He hadn't anticipated seeing anyone today, so he felt under dressed and overwhelmed by Harry’s presence.

"Are you… are you going to come in, or just stand in the doorway and stare at me all night?” Louis teased.

“Is that an invitation?” Harry grumbled, fussing with a button on his coat.

“Oh so you _do_ have to be invited inside, eh? Well maybe I should make you stand out there then while you explain what the hell happened at the bar and where in god’s name you’ve been for the last three weeks.”

Harry dropped his gaze and hung his head. He slowly met Louis’ impatient gaze with a sigh.

“Look Louis, I'm sorry—”

“Three weeks, Harry Styles. No calls, no stopping by. I didn't know if you were okay, or hurt, or afraid—”

“Aw, Lou, you were concerned about me—”

“Of _course_ I was concerned Harry! You drop a bombshell… things happened, and then you went ghost!” Louis snapped. “And don't you _dare_ think that batting your pretty lashes and calling me pet names is going to make up for everything. Where were you?”

Harry twisted the ring around his finger and mumbled something Louis couldn't hear.

“Come in then,” Louis sighed, gesturing for him to sit down. “But I want honesty Harold. What happened?”

“I panicked,” Harry muttered, once he had settled in front of Louis. “I saw my fangs in the mirror and then I heard your heart stop beating and I just… sort of lost my head, so to speak.”

“Were you… did you want to… was I in any danger?” Louis whispered.

“ _NO._ ” Harry said fiercely. “Louis, please, you have to know, you must know that I would never hurt you. I left because I couldn't bear to be responsible for your heart. When it stopped with my fangs out, I just had to leave. It was a really intense moment for me, which I've always tried to avoid. I don't want you think I would hurt you though. I couldn't… I wouldn't, do that.”

“It might not be so bad, you know.” Louis mused.

Harry froze, shock written very clearly on his face. “Louis, what do you mean?” He said slowly.

“I've been on medication my whole life Harry. I've been in and out of hospital since I was a baby. My heart is in awful shape, I'll be lucky if I make it another ten years. I always have to be careful, cautious. It's tiring, always worrying. It might be nice to… not have to anymore.”

Harry swallowed.

“Y-You don't know what you're saying. What you're asking. This isn't _fun_ Louis. What I am… I'm a _monster._ I have had years to come to terms with it, but it wasn't always like this. I've done things, terrible things, _despicable_ things.” He shuddered. “I've been desperate and lonely and hungry. I've wished I could die, have known that this world would be better off without—”

“I didn’t--that’s now what I...what I meant.”  Louis rushed, flushing at Harry’s obvious rebuttal, before continuing, “Don't say that, Harry, that's not true.”

“It _is.”_ Harry argued, fervent. He was very animated, leaning forward in earnest, a pleading look on his face. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I've _killed_ people Louis. Granted, it was a long time ago, but it's something I have to live with for eternity.”

It was Louis’ turn to shudder.

“But Harry, you're good.”

Harry laughed bitterly.

“No you are.” Louis insisted. “You haven't done anything… like that in a long time. You threw yourself away from me at the bar. And I'm pretty sure it was you who saved my life that night I went for a run.”

Harry dropped his gaze again, back to fiddling with his rings. “I couldn't just let you die, Louis.”

“That makes you good. To me.”

“One good deed doesn't erase—”

“It does in my book.”

Harry laughed again, less bitterly this time. “Well as long as I'm good in Professor Tomlinson's book, that's what counts.”

“Damn straight, and don't you forget it,” Louis teased. Apparently they were back to flirting now, falling into it as if it were natural. As the silence settled between them Louis has to ask,. “Where did you go? For the last three weeks. Where have you been?”

“Oh. I did what I always do when I'm upset. I traveled.” Harry confessed.

“Where did you go?” Louis inquired, praying the jealousy he felt was not bleeding into his tone. He hadn't traveled since his own time at uni, after an unfortunate heart incident while backpacking through South America had permanently sidelined him. It was why he was so devoted to books. He could have his adventures in their pages. But deep in his heart he knew it wasn't the same.

“All over.” Harry waved, nonchalant. “Paris and Santorini, Rio and New York City, basically the globe over.”

Louis felt his eyes burn with tears threatening to become a reality. No way was he going to cry in front of Harry. “Why on earth would you ever come back?”

“To see you.” Harry admitted, quietly, back at twisting his ring.

“Me?” Louis wondered, more to himself than to Harry.

“I couldn't bear how I left things, Louis. And everywhere I looked, everywhere I went, there you were. In the blue of Santorini, I only saw your eyes. In New York City, I heard your laugh. In Rio I saw a flash of someone with your skin. In Paris I saw two people kissing under the Eiffel, and all I could think about was the way your lips felt against mine, the way your mouth moves, how _good_ I felt kissing you. So. I had to come back.” He hadn't looked at Louis during his little speech, speaking mostly to his lap, fingers encircled around his ring as he played with it. Louis was entranced by what he was saying, enchanted by the syrup quality of his voice and the words he was saying.

“Harry. I—” Louis paused. He got up out of his seat and walked to where Harry still sat staring down. He stood next to him awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. He knew what he wanted, knew what he was aching to do, so he decided to take the leap. He walked past Harry and closed the door of his office, locking it, and drawing the shade. Harry didn't move a millimeter. Louis turned and walked back towards him, his heart hammering in his chest. He stood in front of him, leaning on his desk.

“Harry. Would you look at me please?”

Harry looked up, eyes full of mixed emotions.

“Would you consider kissing me again?”

Harry nodded, slowly, standing to his feet and closing the gap between him and Louis.

“I missed you too, Harry. Kept thinking I'd see you. In class, at the grocers, sometimes just in my own apartment. I dreamt of you too, of your eyes, your voice, your body…”

“Louis.” Harry exhaled. “I'm sorry.”

Louis met his gaze with a look of determination and challenge. “Prove it.” He whispered with a smile, challenge in his voice.

Harry growled softly and lunged forward, gently, oh so gently, but with intensity too, a hand cradling Louis’ head while he attacked his lips. They kissed fiercely, the passion between them explosive, having simmered under the surface since Harry walked in.

It wasn't long before Louis was pushing again, the lust and desire he felt for Harry had him begging him for more. His hands pulled off Harry’s coat, and roamed his body under his t-shirt. He was cold, his whole body almost like ice, firm and cold under his warm fingers, something Louis had come to learn that with his pale skin and light green eyes meant he had eaten recently.

Harry moaned softly as Louis’ warm hands touched his skin, his cool breath tempering Louis’ hot tongue.

Louis kept pushing.

He slid his hands down to Harry’s waistband but paused. He took Harry’s lip in his teeth and nibbled before whispering, “Can I?”

Harry nodded, sighing happily, his own hands wandering down Louis’ body. “As long as I can.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” Louis asked, voice raspy and full of want.

“But that would require stopping.” Harry teased, his voice deep, fingers dancing on Louis’ thigh playfully.

“ _Harry_.”

Harry looked at him seriously, Louis hoped he knew the importance of what was going unspoken between them. He was trusting Harry, offering himself to him, not to hurt or feed off of him, but to be with him in an entirely different way. It was slightly terrifying, definitely thrilling, and Louis willed his heart to behave.

“Let's go.” Harry said suddenly, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Um. Want to fly?”

Louis laughed. “What kind of a question is that?”

 

                                                                                                                   X

 

It was so exhilarating, flying, draped around Harry’s neck. It felt so natural, like he was born to do it. Thank god it was dark, and they flew high, dropping down in the trees surrounding Louis’ flat. The high of flying and the promise of what was sure to be mind blowing sex with Harry had every one of Louis’ nerve endings standing at attention.

Among… other things.

Harry's hands never left Louis as they climbed the small set of stairs and got to Louis’ door. Louis giggled as his hands shook when he tried and failed to unlock it. Harry spun him around and kissed him deeply against the door, taking his hand and guiding the key into the lock. He had an arm around Louis to keep him from falling as he opened the door behind him.

Louis was thrumming, his whole body on fire, his skin crawling with it. He needed to be naked, needed Harry to be naked.

Harry broke away to look at Louis’ small, cluttered flat as Louis turned on a light. Books were piled everywhere, papers strewn about, an old cup of tea on the table,a blanket thrown over the back of the couch.

“This is so cozy Louis.” Harry smiled. “Very you.”

Louis studied Harry for a second, standing in his flat, his presence so much larger in the small room. He walked backwards towards his bedroom with a smirk, pulling his jumper over his head slowly, staring at Harry, whose pupils dilated.

“Going to stand there all night?” Louis asked, emboldened by Harry’s stare.

In a flash Harry was at his side. “Louis,” he warned. “This might be… tough for me. I might have to take this slowly. I don't want to, I _won't_ hurt you.”

Louis swallowed and nodded. “I know. You won't. I'm not afraid of you Harry, so stop trying to scare me. Just,” he breathed, “ _kiss me._ ” Harry surged forward and captured Louis’ lips in a wet, demanding kiss, the passion from Louis’ office rushing to the surface again. They made their way to the bedroom, kissing and chucking clothes as they went. When Harry’s hand finally wrapped around Louis’ cock, they both sighed in relief.

As they made it to the bed, Harry paused. “Louis, I... It’s been a long time for me, since I've... well. And n-never with someone like, never with a h-human, so—”

“Harry,” Louis groaned, impatient. “I don't need to know your sexual history at the moment, I’d much rather—”

“Do you have a preference?” Harry blurted out, immediately looking like he wished he could take it back.

“Uh, no.” Louis answered. “Do you?”

“Considering the last time I had sex was literally a hundred years ago, uh, no.” Harry dipped his head down bashfully.

Louis groaned and dropped a hand down to squeeze his own cock roughly. “Why don't we figure that out when we get there?” He put two fingers under Harry’s chin and tilted it up towards him, taking in Harry's nervous expression and his bottom lip worrying in his teeth. “Right now I just know that you and I are here together, you're incredibly fucking hot, and that's enough for me. I want to make you feel good, baby.”

Harry leaned forward to kiss him roughly. His cold fingers left burning trails down Louis’ body, his heart stuttering.

They fell into each other, hands exploring. Harry kissed down Louis’ body, sucking a bruise in the dip of his collarbones. Louis was on fire but Harry was ice, the intense temperature difference made Louis shiver with pleasure.

Harry pulled away first. “ _Lou._ ” He whispered, deep voice dripping like honey. “I want to taste you. May I please?"

Louis only moaned in response. Harry flipped him over gently, face down. He kissed him from the neck down, sucking and trailing wet kisses. Louis squirmed in anticipation. Harry mumbled something he couldn't hear, and spread his arse cheeks apart, dropping to take the tiniest kitten lick. Louis gasped.

“Mmmmm,” Harry purred. “Relax, Lou." 

Harry began alternating long, broad stripes with a flattened tongue and tiny, pointed, kitten licks. As he swirled his tongue around Louis saw stars. He was rutting in the sheets, begging for friction on his cock. Harry stopped suddenly.

Louis groaned.

“Louis. You taste so good. Can I— I want—”

“What is it Harry?” 

“I want to feel you, too. Would you fuck me?”

“Y-Yeah, of c-course, Harry.”

They moved to change positions; Harry on all fours while Louis rummaged in his bedside table for his lube and a condom that he placed by his feet.

He popped the cap on the lube and Harry noticeably shivered. Louis laid a warm hand on him, grasping at the little love handle above his hip. He drizzled lube on his other hand, and used his finger to work Harry open. Harry keened and gasped, loud guttural moans spouting from him like a fountain.  Louis was amazed to feel how warm and tight Harry felt around his fingers, such a contrast to his cold, soft skin.  

“God, Harry, you--you feel so good. Fuck.”  Louis folded himself over Harry and slowly worked up to two and then three fingers, his own cock heavy and leaking against his thigh.

When Louis was satisfied that Harry was relaxed and open for him, he rolled on a condom quickly and drizzled it with lube. He paused for just a moment, drinking in Harry beneath him, ready and waiting and everything he ever wanted.  “Lou…” Harry whined, dragging Louis from his reverie and back to the task at hand.  

“Yeah.  Yeah...I’m.  You’re beautiful, Harry,” he whispered reverently , before nudging at Harry’s entrance and pushing inside of him. Once he was fully inside, Harry’s body hot and tight and so, so perfect, Louis stopped moving, still; in awe of how Harry felt.

“Move, please.” Harry choked.

So Louis moved.  His hips snapped, heart pounding with every drive. He grabbed hold of Harry’s hips, moaning with Harry in tandem.

He could feel his own release building, the sparks at the base of his spine, but he wanted Harry to come first. He took a lube slicked hand from Harry’s hip and wrapped it around his cock, tugging him as he thrust further in, searching for his prostate. He found it on the next drive in, as Harry tilted down slightly. The combo must have been too much for Harry, who after just four thrusts, came with a growl, shooting ribbons of come into his fist and onto the bed.

It was overwhelming for Louis, the sounds coming from Harry and the way his body squeezed around him so tight, that he came an instant later, the sparks igniting into flames and whiting out his vision. He shot hot and hard into the condom, his heart stuttering to a stop for a moment before kicking back on into overdrive.

Louis collapsed onto Harry’s back as the aftershocks of his orgasm wore off, his cock pulsing inside Harry, who snarled softly.

He pulled out slowly and tied off the condom, throwing it in the bin next to his bed, wiped his hand on a nearby towel, then collapsed beside Harry, who was covering his mouth with his arm.

“Just… give me a minute.” Harry panted. “My uh… teeth will go away in a moment.”

“I'm not afraid of your fangs, Harry.” Louis said. “But I am sleepy.” He hesitated. “Are you staying?”

Harry looked at him, something in his eyes that Louis couldn't quite place. “If I may.”

“Of course.” He whispered. “But I should warn you, I'm a snuggler.”

Harry scrunched up his nose as he looked Louis. “Shower in the morning?” Louis nodded, sleep threatening to pull him into its clutches. Harry leaned forward to kiss him, a look of such affection and endearment on his face that it nearly took Louis’ breath away. 

As they got comfortable, Louis began to drift off with only one thought running on a loop through his mind.

He was falling in love with a vampire.

  
  



	5. The Longest Day

As Harry laid there through the night, he watched Louis sleep. He watched his eyelashes flutter, his chest rising and falling. He listened to his snuffling breath, he traced the curves of his body (his incredible body, now half wrapped in a sheet) with his eyes. He played a game on his phone, he ordered Niall the latest FIFA game, he bought Louis a couple warm sweaters. (Winter was fast approaching; he'd say he accidentally ordered them too small.)

  
But mostly, he listened to Louis’ heart.

  
He frowned as he heard the little organ chugging along. If there was one thing Harry knew, it was a heart headed towards the end of life. He was a hunter, after all, trained to hear when an animal was close to finished.

  
Louis didn't have much time left.

  
He didn't know how long, but he knew it wasn't enough time. At some point in the very near future, Louis’ heart would quit beating for good.

  
Harry’s emotions hit him like a freight train as Louis’ heart beat in his ears, dread filling him up like the blood in Louis’ veins.

  
He had never met someone like Louis Tomlinson. Since the moment he had laid eyes on him just shy of a month ago, his world had not been the same. Louis saw him for what he was and wanted him anyway.

  
He was funny, sexy, smart, and infuriatingly challenging, but most of all he was intoxicating. Harry wanted to know every thought in his mind, every wish, every dream, every hope in his struggling heart. He wanted to see the world with him, wanted to protect him, wanted to save him, wanted every bad thing to stay far away from him.

  
Harry was in love with Louis.

  
He had known it for a while, in fact, since that fateful day he’d followed him back to his classroom. He had smelled the scent of Louis on the breeze and was immediately transported back in time.

  
Harry once heard that scent was the strongest sense tied to memory. What he hadn't expected, was finding a _person_ whose scent would remind him of home. Louis smelled like everything he remembered of his past life, and just like that, he was done for. Doomed to pine over Louis for as long as he had left on the earth.

  
And the more he got to know him, the more Harry understood how the concept of home could be something other than a place, how it could be person instead. How the crinkle of someone’s eyes when they smiled could be just as cozy as a hearth. How their loving embrace could be just as important as a family table. How the sound of their voice could soothe, like falling into bed at the end of a tiring day. He had been all over the world, looking for a place, his place, and he had found it in the color of Louis’ eyes, the delicate bones of his wrist, the dip of his collarbones. He wanted to come home to Louis. He wanted Louis to be his home.

  
Louis sighed and rustled in his sleep; Harry closed his eyes and peeked from his lashes as Louis woke up. It was a moment so powerful, so pure, and Harry was again overwhelmed. In all of his time roaming the earth alone, he could have never anticipated falling in love with a person, but Louis was different. He was wholly undeserving of a person like Louis, the realization of just how much washed over Harry anew, humbling him, as Louis stirred again.

  
Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes, pretending to wake up as well. He draped an arm around Louis and pulled him close, Louis chuckling.

  
“Did you even sleep?” Louis asked, snuggling down into Harry’s cold chest with a shiver.

  
“Mmmm…. no.” Harry whispered, confessing.

  
“So you just watched me sleep all night? That's proper creepy Harold, even for the likes of you.” Louis teased, and Harry again marveled at how much he loved him.

  
He loved Louis.

  
“Tsk tsk, how self centered, Professor Tomlinson,” Harry rumbled, with a grin. “As if my world revolves around you. I happen to be a master of Candy Crush. I was defeating a particularly challenging level.”

  
Louis frowned, looking like a disgruntled kitten. He looked as if he wanted to say something, opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

  
“You play Candy Crush?” He asked, surprised.

  
“Well, in between cleaning out my coffin and checking our grounds for wooden objects that could be used as stakes, yes. On my iPad.”

  
Louis stared at him for a beat before bursting into laughter. He tilted his chin back, his eyes landing on Harry’s mouth before asking in his high-pitched, raspy voice, “Do vampires get morning breath, then?”

  
“Kiss me and find out?”

  
Louis wrinkled his brow. “Humans do.”

  
“Don't care,” Harry laughed. “Just want to kiss you again.”

  
“Just a peck. Need to shower and get to class. _Someone_ interrupted my grading last night.”

  
“Give them all B’s?”

  
“My ethics board would stake you for such a thought.”

  
“I think I could take them.” Harry joked, leaning down to kiss Louis lightly. “Do you have to teach today? Don't professors get sick days?”

  
Louis was quiet a moment, as if he were considering. “I took a few days off a couple weeks ago, remember? I'm not tenured yet, H. So yeah, I have to teach today. I'm done at four though? We could do dinner…”

  
“Do you get a lunch?”

  
“Can’t live without me for a few hours, eh?” Louis

  
Harry paused. He didn't want to be too pushy, too needy, but he also didn't want to be apart from Louis for too long. Louis, sensing his hesitation, squeezed his hip.

  
“I take lunch at around 12:30, usually. I almost always eat by my favorite sculpture, you know that big stone piece in the center of campus?”

  
“I'm sort of familiar with it, yes.” Harry smiled.

  
“Come meet me there then, if you'd like. But for now, I desperately need to shower, or else I'll be late.”

  
“I'm going to let you do that in peace. I'll see you later.” Harry moved to get out of bed, but stopped when he felt Louis’ hand on his back.

  
“Harry?” He whispered, his tone hesitant. “I, um… I'm not one for grand speeches, I don't even give them to my classes usually. But I just have to say, have to tell you that last night…last night was one of the best nights of my life. I know I don't have much to offer, compared to you—”

  
“Don't say that.”

  
“It's true. And I can't... c-can't promise you much, if anything, really, but I can say that I am so, so very thankful you came back. I feel so lucky—”

  
“Lou. Don't.”

  
“Stop interrupting me, you tosser!” Louis warned, as threatening as a kitten. He was as endearing and hopelessly adorable as one too, his hair sticking up all over the place. “I feel so lucky you came to find me, of all people. You’re quite…” He paused, and Harry braced himself for whatever he was about to say.

  
“Wonderful.” Louis finished, softly. “You're wonderful H, and even if you don't see it, I do.”

  
Harry stared at him, frozen in place. His thoughts raced a million miles around him. Louis thought he was wonderful, he was thankful for Harry. Should he tell him he loved him, then? Should he do that this soon?

  
“Now budge off, or you'll make me late!” Louis broke into his thoughts, sparing him any further agony. Later. He'd tell Louis later.

  
He rolled out of bed and grabbed for his pants, turning to wolf whistle at Louis who was scampering to the shower.

  
“Oi! None of that.” Louis popped his head out of the en suite. “See you later?”

  
Harry nodded eagerly. “Wouldn't miss it.”

  
                       XXXXXXX

  
Louis looked at his phone. Harry was late, by at least ten minutes, and Louis was hungry, impatient, and annoyed. The sun looked to break from what had been constant cloud cover. Maybe that's what was keeping him? He knew Harry couldn't be in direct sunlight, without incurring a rash.

  
In the distance he could see a figure, tall, long coat, moving towards him. But as the figure approached, he noticed a shock of blonde hair and deep blue eyes. This was Harry’s friend from the bar, Neil, or something. He looked much the same as he had at the bar. He was glowing, his blonde hair lustrous, his blue eyes vibrant. He was tall, and well built. He wore a newsboy cap and a cream sweater that he looked incredible in. He was absolutely beautiful.

  
He was obviously approaching Louis, headed right toward him with a smile on his face, but instead of feeling comforted, Louis was terrified. He did a sweeping gaze of his surroundings. The cold, cloudy weather just have been driving most students indoors, as he and this Neil person seemed to be mostly alone. It was getting darker and cloudier by the minute as the beautiful, intense man came closer, almost as if the line of clouds were following him.

  
Louis’ heart started beating faster.

  
He did a tiny wave, attempting to force his heart rate down and make himself stay calm. This was a friend of Harry’s. Sure, he might be a vampire, and right now he might look super tan and glowing, his eyes a deep shade of ocean blue, but that didn't mean anything. He knew Harry. Louis had faith in Harry’s judge of character.

  
“Hey mate, how's it going? Bit nippy innit?” Neil chirped. “I'm Niall. You're Louis, yeah? Harry said you'd be here. He's running late.”

  
Niall, not Neil. Okay then.

  
“Hi Niall. Yes, I'm Louis. Thanks for... um... Thanks for letting me know?”

  
Niall grinned, and for a brief instant, Louis swore he saw fangs. These weren't like Harry’s tiny baby fangs, but full fledged… like they were often used.

  
Louis swallowed.

  
“I've been friends with Harry for… uh… a long time,” Niall said slowly, eyeing the statue behind him. “Did he tell you we’re patrons here? Costs me a fucking fortune, but Harry wanted to do it.”

  
“Oh! Oh. Uh. No… he didn't.” Louis stammered.

  
Niall shook his head slowly. “I've never seen anyone get to him like you have Louis. Never seen anyone affect him so much. You’re all he's talked about, since the moment he met you. Won't shut up. Louis this, and Louis that, blah blah blah.” He trailed off, staring into the distance, and Louis didn't have a response. There was a hard edge to Niall’s words, and Louis was pretty sure it wasn’t his imagination, but the vampire had inched closer to him as he talked.

  
He decided it was best to leave.

  
He pushed off from where he had been leaning against the stone, brushed himself down and made to start walking.

  
“Well Niall, thanks for letting me know about Harry. If you don't mind, I'll just—”

  
“Has he told you about us?”

  
“Pardon?”

  
“Harry.” Niall sighed. “Has he told you what we are?”

  
Louis didn't know what to say. Niall seemed closer than before, as if he had edged further into Louis’ space, when Louis wasn't paying attention. His heart, sensing some sort of danger, was racing, everything screaming at him to flee. But Louis had never been one to back down from a challenge before.

  
He looked Niall squarely in the face (Jesus, he was beautiful) and said with all of the courage he could muster, “Yes. He has. And it doesn't matter. I lo— I care about him a lot, Niall. I trust him. No matter what, or who, he is.”

  
Niall stared at Louis, then quietly, as if to himself, he growled,.“Thought you might say as much.”

  
In a flash he was at Louis’ neck, a hand over Louis’ mouth.

  
Louis’ heart was racing.

  
His fangs were at the ready, a hunter poised to strike.

  
“Not all vampires are like Harry, you know.” Niall whispered, goosebumps rippling down Louis’ neck. “Some of us will actually kill people. Drink their blood. Sometimes just for fun.” Louis shivered. “Harry was right, you do smell good. Bet you taste fucking fantastic.”

  
Niall licked his neck then. “You know why vampires bite the neck? It's actually because of how much pain it inflicts. It's pure agony, and a lot of us really get off on it. I know I do.”

  
Louis whimpered and he felt his heart stutter.

  
“That's right. You have a bad heart. Pity. This will almost be too easy then. Almost takes the fun out of it.”

  
Louis’ knees buckled as his heart flew. He felt the strength in Niall’s grip, and knew he couldn't break Niall’s hold if he tried. That didn't stop him from attempting it, Niall lowly chuckling at his futile efforts. Adrenaline pumped through Louis’ veins.

  
Where was Harry?

  
“Too bad for your lover,” Niall whispered. “But it's better this way, I promise. For all of us.” Hold still now.”

  
He opened his mouth wider, Louis now feeling the scrape of his fangs. He was not a religious person, but with the terrifying fear that held his heart in a vice grip, he found himself wondering about the afterlife. He would miss his mum, his students, Liam.

  
Louis’ heart stopped.

  
His eyes fluttered shut as he mercifully lost consciousness, and as the blackness enveloped him he could hear himself whisper one word.

  
“Harry.”

   
                        XXXXXXX

  
Harry heard Louis’ heart pick up from across town. He was frustrated and impatient, itching to get to him and find out if he was okay. Now that he was familiar with Louis’ heart, he was always listening for it. He knew he was running late to lunch, maybe Louis was running too.

  
He frowned as he heard its speed accelerate again. Louis should be more careful.

  
He tapped his feet impatiently, standing at the counter of the travel agency, the agent he had been working with working slowly across the counter. He was trying to book a trip to Greece. He had watched Louis’ face fall when he had talked about traveling. Harry wanted to see the world with him. He knew it was a reckless idea, without consulting Louis first, but he wasn't thinking very rationally. He was bubbly, happy, in love with how much he loved Louis. He wanted to give him everything.

  
Louis’ heart picked up again.

  
It was beating entirely too fast now. Something was terribly wrong. His heart wouldn't be able to sustain this pace much longer. He muttered an apology to the agent and flew out of the office.

  
Harry lost himself to tracker mode, desperate to find Louis. He flew to the statue just in time to see Niall, fangs extended at Louis’ neck. Louis’ knees caved and his heart stopped, the absence of the sound Harry had become so in tune with ringing in his hollow ears.

  
If his breath was important to him it would have been taken away. Fear, shock, and rage, flooded through him.

  
He gnashed his teeth and bellowed as he flew forward.

  
“NOOOO! LOUIS!!!”

  
Niall looked up in shock and dropped Louis to the ground, Louis landing with a sickening thud.

  
Niall evaporated, flying into the air with a burst of speed. Harry sank next to Louis.

  
His heart wasn't beating.

  
Harry began CPR as gingerly as he could, begging and pleading for any force in the universe to come to his aid. If he had a soul, he would trade it to save Louis.

  
Nothing.

  
Harry couldn't let this happen.

  
He knew there was an out. He could save Louis. But Louis would never be the same.

  
As he continued to work on him, a vision appeared before his eyes. Louis, _his_ Louis, strong and sure. Louis as a vampire, his eyes deep and the bluest blue. Louis proud as he flew next to Harry, Louis running without worry or fear. He and Louis together, forever, with nothing between them but time, the whole world at their feet, boundless, limitless, unstoppable.

  
He was immediately hit with another vision. Louis with blood dripping from a set of fangs. Louis pale and dull, Louis lurking in shadows, Louis writhing in agony over what Harry would have to do.

  
“Louis.” He whispered. “I'm so sorry. I… I have to do what's best, and maybe someday you'll be able to understand and forgive me. May heaven forgive me.”

  
Harry stopped performing CPR and delicately picked up Louis, cradling his body in his arms.

  
“I love you.”

  
And with that promise on his lips he dipped his head.

  
He kissed Louis’ neck first before opening his mouth and sinking his fangs into Louis’ perfect skin.

  
As the first metallic tang of fresh blood hit him, the taste of Louis was so powerful he immediately latched down harder.

  
It was _everything_.

  
Harry had tasted human blood before, but not for nearly three centuries. He had never tasted human blood like Louis’, warm, wet, thick, and utterly perfect. Louis’ blood tasted just like Louis’ personality, sweet with a note of tartness, like a cherry. It was the most erotic moment of Harry’s time on earth so far. He was filled to the brim with desire for more. Louis tasted phenomenal, better than he could have ever imagined, better than he could have ever dreamed.

  
But he knew very quickly that he had injected enough poison into Louis by now to do the trick, to turn him. It didn't take much.

  
But he just couldn't stop.

  
He was going to kill the only person he had ever loved because he was a monster and he wasn’t strong enough to stop himself.

  
Louis twitched beneath him, his eyelashes fluttering, and the infinitesimal movement was enough to send a shockwave through Harry.

  
He extricated himself, agony sending firestorms into his brain, his whole body burning, chanting, begging, _pleading_ with him to dive right back in. Every atom of his body instinctively pushed him for more, but he fought against it with some other reserve of strength he didn’t know he had, his body and his emotions at war. Harry looked around furiously, and seeing no one, shot himself and Louis into the sky.

  
He needed to get him somewhere where he could change in peace. Harry shivered. He knew the pain that Louis was about to endure, it was something he could never forget. He would just have to beg Louis to forgive him somehow.

  
As they were in the air, Louis began to moan, his grip on Harry tightening as his heart began to beat again, fiercely, wildly. His heart would pump his poisonous blood all throughout his body bit by bit, and when it was done, it would never beat again.

  
Louis would be a vampire.

   
                       XXXXXXX

  
Louis was burning alive.

  
It was as if his whole body was being sliced open by burning hot knives, as if fire and shards of glass lived in his very veins. It was a pain beyond anything he had ever experienced.

  
He was dying.

  
Between stretches of consciousness, he had mere seconds of sweet, black nothingness, but they were terrifyingly short and sporadic, scattered between his long bouts of anguish and torment.

  
His mind scrambled to put events in order. He could vaguely remember Niall. So that was it then. Niall had bitten him and now he was dying.

  
But… why was it taking so long?

  
He was being tortured, screams pouring from his mouth, his body seizing and spasming at random intervals, his heart beating at a sluggish pace.

  
He wanted to die now, wanted to be free of this pain. The only regret he could muster was of Harry, of not getting to say goodbye.

  
His heart was slowing down now, but the pain raced on.

  
He blacked out again, so thankful for the darkness that enveloped him, welcoming what was hopefully his death.

  
He loved Harry, and that was all he knew.

  
When he came to again, the traumatic pain was finally gone. There was new feeling of fire, but it was a dull burn, an ache, that had settled over his bones. He felt odd, hollow, out of place, disoriented.

  
He was in a bed, the mattress firm and soft beneath him. The sheets were nice and smooth. There was light in the room, he could tell, even though Louis still had his eyes closed. The thought of sunlight made the dull burning fire flare up a bit. He heard birds chirping outside. He heard the wind whistling a bit. Sounds he had never noticed before were filling his ears, like a hunter who was finely attuned to his surroundings.

  
Louis willed himself to open his eyes, slowly.

  
Harry was staring at him with a look of anxious concern, across the room, not moving.

  
“Harry?” He rasped out, his voice hoarse.

  
Harry nodded, but still did not move towards him.

  
Louis marveled at him. It was as if someone had put a microscope in his eyes, he could see him perfectly, down to the tiniest detail. He could see the tiny little curl at the side of his neck that had sprung loose from his bun, could smell his vanilla tobacco leather smell, could hear his fingers fiddling with his ring, could practically taste him on his tongue and—

  
Well, that was new.

  
When he thought of the way Harry tasted, the burn flared again, this time bright and hot.

  
He was so thirsty.

  
“May I have some water please?”

  
Harry looked at him morosely, but nodded again, and then pointed past Louis. He looked, and on the bedside table, there was also a glass of water.

  
Louis drank the whole thing down in one gulp and frowned. Harry stared at him sadly.

  
“Harry. What's happened? Why do you keep looking at me like I died?” Louis cried, panic rising in his voice. He went to shift but in an instant he was sitting fully upright when he had just been propped up on pillows before.

  
Harry looked stricken. “Did the water help your thirst, Louis?” He questioned, his deep voice full of raw emotion.

  
Louis thought about, the full burn flaring again when Harry said thirst. “Well… no…”

  
Harry looked like he wanted to cry. He was scaring Louis.

  
“Tell me what's wrong, Harry.”

  
“Do you remember anything?”

  
“I remember you weren't at the statue and Niall met me. He bit me, didn't he? Did I die? Did you save me? Am I a vampire?” Louis couldn’t help the teasing tone in his voice. He was so confused his mind went on default. So he made a joke.

  
Harry made a choked off noise at that, and Louis flinched, or at least he thought he only flinched, but with lightning speed he was off the bed in a crouch.

  
“Louis, please, it's okay.” Harry pleaded, placatingly, like he was afraid of Louis.

  
Why would Harry be afraid of Louis? Unless...

  
Fear rippled through him, the dull burn at the base of his throat flaring again.

  
“I AM, aren't I? I'm a vampire. Niall did this. He did this to me Harry!” Louis snarled, feeling fangs pop into his mouth. Well, that answered that question. “Where is he?”

  
Harry backed up against the wall and held up both of his hands in surrender. “He's gone, Louis. Cleared out after I saw him with you at the sculpture. All this time, I just assumed he was better than this. Louis, I'm so sorry, I never should have—”

  
“Don't apologize for what he did, Harry,” Louis snapped.

  
“Louis. We need to talk about what happened. But first, I think you need to eat. And then later, we can go hunt. D-do you, do you w-want to see yourself?”

  
Louis stood up in an instant. He was not used to being so fast. “Do I look bad?” He whispered, afraid of the answer.

  
Harry shook his head vigorously, more curls springing free from his bun. He was so beautiful, and Louis loved him so much. He was elated, but not surprised, that that piece of him had traveled through his transformation. Harry was exquisite, and lovely, and still everything Louis wanted.

  
“No.” Harry said, fervently, something sounding like desire woven in. “You look...” he hesitated, as if searching for the right word, “ _fierce_.”

  
He stepped away from the mirror he'd apparently been blocking the whole time, and Louis gasped as he saw his reflection. He was a deep tan, but his skin glowed, glistening. His hair was a rich brown color, golden pieces sparkling in the light. His eyes were so blue they looked fake, so blue they put the ocean to shame. His lips were a dusty pink, even his unshaven stubble was perfect and enticing. He looked like himself, but much more intense, as if someone had airbrushed all his flaws away.

  
He opened his mouth and gasped again. There, gleaming against the rest of his now pearly white teeth, was a set of fangs similar to Harry’s, small almost dainty looking. He was beautiful, and as Harry had said, fierce. As he stared at his fangs, the dull burn flared in his throat, refusing to be ignored. He looked at Harry, almost helpless.

  
“If you'll follow me please, Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry muttered, like he was trying to joke, keep it light, but emotion was flagging him down.

  
Louis followed him out of the room and down the stairs into a dark and extremely modern kitchen. The house was gorgeous and flawlessly well decorated, all of it rich and earthy. Harry disappeared into a pantry of some sort and came out with a bag of what had to be blood.

  
Louis’ throated itched and he whimpered slightly.

  
Harry looked at him gravely. “I know, Lou. I know you need this. Hold on for just a minute for me love.”

  
The burn in his throat was a vibrant hot poker now. He could smell the blood from across the room, his nostrils flaring, another pained noise leaving his throat. Harry looked at him apologetically, and hurried to bring him a glass.

  
Louis downed the glass in one swoop, the fire in his throat finally, finally quenched. It was warm and wet, thicker than wine. It tasted absolutely fantastic, like Louis had been born to drink it. The actual taste was a bit less intense than Louis had been expecting, a little more metallic, but satisfying and delicious. He didn't know whether to be repulsed at how much he enjoyed it or gesture to Harry for more.

  
“Do I ask where you got that?” Louis asked hesitantly. He was unsure if he wanted to know the answer himself.

  
Harry grimaced. “We—I am a patron of the university, which has given me certain perks and accesses. The medical labs in particular, both human and veterinary. Do you feel better?”

  
Louis nodded. “Are you going to try and find him? Niall? After what he did to me?”

  
“No. Because he didn’t do it to you Louis, I did.”

  
“What?” Louis roared, incredulous, betrayal flooding his veins, along with the newly ingested blood. “Why Harry?”

  
Harry looked at him sadly. “You were dying, Louis. I wasn’t going to be able to save you. And I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t lose you like that.” Something rough and thick entered his tone. “Not when I had just found you. I couldn’t watch you die and stand by and do nothing, not when...”

  
He trailed off, but Louis was desperate to know what he had been about to say. So Harry had saved him. Had he done so because he loved him too?

  
“When what, Harry?” Louis pressed.

  
Harry smiled joylessly. “You’ve had a hard day, a long couple of days, actually. You'll find you probably don't need to sleep, but I can maybe return to your place tomorrow and collect some of your things? Of course you're welcome to leave, I can arrange for you to go anywhere you'd like, but I would suggest maybe avoiding people for a while.”

  
Louis let all of it sink in. His whole life had changed. How could he teach now? How could he do what he loved? He looked at Harry who sat in front of him, almost apologetic even in his posture. Harry had done what what he thought was best. He had saved Louis’ life, even knowing what he was costing Louis in the process.

  
Louis was so thankful for him. He was confused and maybe even a little angry about how little choice he’d had in the matter but still… He felt such an intense love it nearly knocked him off his feet. There were touches of grief around it, coloring it, as he imagined there would be for some time. But Harry deserved to know it nonetheless.

  
“I love you.” He blurted out. “I'm in love with you Harry.”

  
Harry sat back in his chair, a stunned look on his face. He put his hands behind his head, arms pointed out, a slow, wide smile spread over his face, his dimple appearing.

  
“You do?” He said incredulously. “Y-You do?”

  
Louis laughed, the sound tinkling and light. He felt light for the first time in so long, he felt _happy_.

  
“Yes, I do.”

  
Harry surged forward and snatched him out of his chair, pulling him into a searing, bruising kiss. If Louis had breath, it would have been stolen from him. If he had been human still, Harry would have crushed him. It was a magnificent kiss, and it filled Louis with desire. He could taste everything, the smell of Harry filling his nostrils, the tiniest noises picked up by his ears. He could at last kiss Harry back the way he deserved to be kissed, firmly, with all the passion that was exploding out of him.

  
That thought sent a thrill through Louis as he kissed back just as ferociously. Harry groaned, pulling back from him.

  
“You have to know I love you too, Louis.”

  
Louis smiled so widely he thought his face would crack from it. “Do you now?”

  
“Of course I do,” he said “I feel like I've loved you forever, since the first moment I saw you. It feels like infinity.” Harry looked longingly into Louis’ eyes, nearly knocking Louis over from the intensity. As he continued, he pressed light kisses over Louis’ face. “Take it from someone who knows.”

  
Louis smiled. “I love you too Harry, I've loved you for so long. And we have forever now, don't we? You and I?”

  
Harry kissed him, a long, deep kiss that left Louis desperate for more. “Yes we do, my love. We have an eternity together, as long as you’ll have me.”

  
They had so much to figure out, but Louis knew they would do it. They had nothing but time.

  
They were vampires.


End file.
